


Do-Over

by hulettwyo



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-02
Updated: 2013-06-02
Packaged: 2017-12-13 19:17:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 29,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/827893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hulettwyo/pseuds/hulettwyo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yep, it’s a time travel fic.  Rated NC-17 for character death and descriptions of torture.<br/>Buffy gets a do-over, but will she be able to change things for the better, or will things just get worse?</p><p>Disclaimer:  All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners.  The original characters and plot are the property of the author.  The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise.  No copyright infringement is intended.</p><p>Thanks for reading and please don’t forget to let me know what you think!  I love hearing from you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Do It

Do-Over  
Chapter One – Do It

She’d stayed up all night making lists – pros and cons – scribbling then scratching out and scribbling again… trying to find any reason to keep going, any way at all to dull the pain, and she just couldn’t. The reasons to stay and keep fighting were far outweighed by the fact that she couldn’t go on without her heart. It just wasn’t possible. She’d tried. She had. Tried to find a way to exist without him, but it was hopeless, and now… now she was done. Done fighting, done hurting… just… done.

The letters were stacked up neatly on the counter by the sink. Once she’d made her decision, the words had flowed from the end of the pen, almost without any conscious thought on her part. There was a letter for each of her friends, one for her Watcher, and the topmost letter… the longest one… for her sister. She’d written down all her memories of him – the good and the bad – hoping that Dawn would understand why. 

The knife handle was cool against her palm and it had a weight to it that it probably shouldn’t. It felt like the end. And it would be. For her… it would be. Finally.

She sliced quickly and deeply into her flesh. No hesitation. No wondering if this was really the right thing to do. She knew it was. She’d decided. She started in the palm of her hand and sliced up her arm almost to her elbow, not across her wrist like they show in the movies. That wouldn’t do it. She needed to open as many vessels as possible. She needed to make this fast. Checkout was in an hour and she could already hear the housekeeping staff rolling their heavy, noisy carts down to both ends of the hallway.

The water in the tub was hot, almost scalding. To make the blood flow faster. She’d read that somewhere. And it did. It exited her body in a torrent, spiraling in fat tendrils through the water. She watched it in fascination until it slowed and became sluggish then she laid her head back on the edge of the tub, the murky red water lapping gently at her shoulders as she let her arm drift down into the water to rest on her stomach. She was feeling… well, not content… not exactly, but… kind of light… like she was weightless. 

She knew she probably wouldn’t end up in Heaven this time out; suicides were forbidden entry as far as she knew, but she hoped that wherever she did end up wouldn’t be too bad. As if anything could be worse than all these months without him. As if any torture devised could be worse than knowing he’d died not believing her. That he’d died thinking he was unloved.

Blackness was seeping into the edges of her vision and she couldn’t really feel her body or the heat from the water anymore as she wondered, not for the first time, where the Powers had sent her Champion. The demon… no, the **man** who’d fought for his soul and had sacrificed himself to save the world… to save her. Surely not Hell. Even the Powers couldn’t be that cruel, could they? Yeah, he was a vampire, but… he’d changed. He didn’t deserve eternal torment anymore. Not after all the good he’d done. Not after all the torment she’d already put him through. 

Her last thought was actually a fervent plea as her heart thumped weakly one more time then stilled. _‘Wherever Spike is, please let him be safe and warm and happy… and loved.’_

XX  
XXXX  
XX

Something smelled bad. Really bad. Her nose squinched up and she rolled over, trying to get away from the scent, only to be startled fully awake when someone laid a hand on her shoulder and shook her hard. “Slayer? You need to wake up, we don’t have much time.”

She rolled back over and slowly opened her eyes, squinting against the bright light. The person standing next to her was blurry, but there was no mistaking that voice… or that smell. “Whistler?”

She blinked several times and he was somewhat clearer when he smiled and nodded. “Yeah.”

“Where am I?” 

“An in between place. Kind of like a waiting room.”

She sat up, noticing that she was laying on a soft, comfy chaise lounge and was dressed in a flowing white robe. She lifted her arm and was completely unsurprised to see it whole and unmarked. She dropped it back to her lap with a sigh, “They wouldn’t let me do it, would they? They’re sending me back.”

“Well… yes and maybe. You did manage to kill yourself and that’s why we have to hurry. The housekeeper just started on the room next to yours and if she finds your body, it’s all over.”

“What’s all over?”

“Your life. If she finds you bled out in the bathtub, this action will be set and the Powers won’t let you do anything to change it.”

“Why would I want to change it? Me being dead is kinda the whole point. There’s nothing to change.”

“Yes, there is. The Powers are giving you a choice.”

She blinked stupidly at him. “A choice?”

“Yes. You can let this timeline continue as is or you can go back and try to fix things… change the timeline so there won’t be a body for her to find.”

Buffy sat up straight, her eyes wide and hopeful. “Fix things? How far back?”

“I don’t know and you won’t get to choose what point in the timeline you get returned to.” Whistler glanced at something over Buffy’s shoulder. “And you have to make the choice right now.” Buffy started nodding vigorously and Whistler held up his hand. “There will be rules.”

“Don’t care. Do it.”

Whistler snapped his fingers then took a relieved breath. “Ok. So you’ve made your choice. Your body is gone and the room has been returned to how it was before you checked in. Now we have time to go over the rules.”

“Okay, but first, will I still have all my memories or will I go back and just make the same mistakes all over again?”

“You’ll know everything you do now. Basically we’ll plant this… consciousness… your essence… into a younger you… and that’s where the rules come in.”

“How many rules? And have the Powers noticed that I really don’t like following rules? They have been paying attention, haven’t they?”

Whistler smirked and chuckled quietly. “Yeah, they’ve noticed. That’s why there’s really only one rule… and it’s non-negotiable. If you don’t agree to it, then the deal’s off and you go back to being dead in a bathtub.”

Buffy took a deep breath and steeled herself. “Ok. Hit me. What is it?”

“Some things in the original timeline still have to happen, but the main thing… the one the Powers are adamant about… the one this whole deal hinges on is… one person is meant to die and you can’t be allowed to change it.”

Buffy’s throat felt like it was closing up as she mentally catalogued all the people – friends and family – that she’d lost since she’d been called as the Slayer. “Who?”

“I don’t know how far back they’re going to send you so it might not even matter, but the gypsy still has to die.”

“Jenny Calendar?”

“Yes. Her death was foretold eons ago and it’s central to half a dozen prophecies, so it has to happen or you have no idea how screwed up a few other dimensions will get.”

Buffy swallowed hard and blinked back her tears. “Um… okay… is there anybody else I have to let die?”

“No, she’s the only one.”

The tears spilled out of her eyes as she breathed out, “My Mom? I could save my Mom? And Tara? They wouldn’t have to die?”

Whistler shook his head. “Nope. Both of their deaths were essentially natural, no supernatural elements involved at all, so they’re both entirely preventable.”

“What about sending Angel to Hell? Do I still have to do that?”

“Uh… well, you don’t HAVE to. If Angelus isn’t unleashed in the first place then…”

“But if he isn’t, then Jenny…”

“Will still die, it just won’t be Angelus that kills her. Like I said, her death is foretold. You have to promise not to interfere with that or the Powers won’t let you go back.”

Buffy swallowed hard and nodded. “I promise. I’ll let her die.” Whistler raised his hand and Buffy held hers up. “Hold on a sec.” She shivered slightly and pulled the robe tighter around herself. “Is there anything else I should know? Can I stop Willow from getting addicted to magics? Keep Spike from being captured by the Initiative? But then he wouldn’t start helping and he wouldn’t f..fall… What about Dawn? If I get to Ben before he gets to Sunnydale, then will Dawn even show up? And if she does, will I still have to jump off the tower to save her? And if I do that, but Willow doesn’t get into the magics, then she won’t be able to bring me back…” She reached up and rubbed at her forehead. “God, all this is giving me a headache.”

Whistler took off his hat and worried at it nervously with his fingers. “If I could, I’d give you a list of which things are fixed and which ones can be changed, but I can’t. They won’t let me. Some things will still happen, no matter what you do, so just change the things you can and accept the things you can’t, I guess.”

Buffy grumbled, “You’re all large with the cryptic and not helping, as usual,” then she stood up, placing her hands on her hips. “All right. Let’s do this. Send me back.”

Whistler snapped his fingers.


	2. Slayer’s Honor

Do-Over  
Chapter Two – Slayer’s Honor

She blinked. Then blinked again. He was right there. Right in front of her, his bound hands straining towards her and a murderous scowl on his face that melted into quickly hidden surprise. He slumped back into the tub, dropping his hands into his lap with a frustrated sigh even as he kept his eyes pinned to her. She blinked again then just stared at him, her mind flipping through images at a breakneck pace, trying to figure out when she was. Spike was chained in a bathtub; a blood covered straw pinched between his hip and the side of the tub. She looked at the cupboard at the end of the tub and yep, there it was, the ‘Kiss the Librarian’ mug half full of blood.

Okay, so this was right after Spike had escaped from the Initiative and had come to them for help. She’d been interrogating him and… She closed her eyes as she concentrated, trying to remember what had happened next. Spike had asked how long he’d live after he told them about the commandos and Giles had said that they wouldn’t kill a harmless creature, but they couldn’t let him go until they were sure he was impotent. She’d said he was flaccid and something else and that’s when he’d lunged toward her. What had she done next?

She could feel Giles standing behind her and heard the quiet sound of his indrawn breath as he prepared to speak, but no… he hadn’t spoken next, she had. She’d bared her throat to Spike, cruelly taunting the starving vampire with her blood. Her eyes snapped open to find Spike watching her warily, his brow furrowed. He tipped his head back slightly, his nostrils flaring as he took in her scent, then his eyes widened, but only fractionally. He didn’t want to let her know that he’d scented something off, but she could tell. Even after not seeing him for so long, she could still read his expressions like a book with extra large print and colorful pictures. He knew.

The Watcher’s cultured voice broke the silence, “Yes, well, Buffy, I’ll leave you to it. Please do try not to kill him until after he’s given us something useful.” And just like that, the timeline was changed as he turned and left the bathroom.

Buffy stood frozen, watching Spike watch her. God, he looked good. Even as pale and starved as he was right now, he was still the sexiest thing she’d seen in… well, since the last time she’d seen him. And he was real. He was here. Making with the unliving not three feet away from where she was standing. Her fingers itched to touch him and she curled her hands into fists to keep them from doing it. Spike’s eyebrow quirked at that and he pushed himself away from the edge of the tub. Away from her. She forced her hands open. 

She needed to think… try to get all this straight in her mind so she’d know what to do next, and feeling the weight of Spike’s gaze crawling all over her wasn’t helping in the slightest. She needed to get away to somewhere quiet. Somewhere without incredibly sexy vampires staring at her. She spun and sprinted for the front door, calling over her shoulder that she was going patrolling and would be back tomorrow, not noticing the worried glances from Giles and Willow as they stood at the end of the couch. She burst out into the cool night air and pounded up the stairs to the street then just let her feet take her where they would.

Of course she’d ended up at Spike’s crypt. Where else would she go? Even after all these years, his crypt still meant sanctuary… safety. He hadn’t moved in there yet in this timeline, so she’d had to break the door in, stumbling down the step into the dark room when it suddenly gave way. She pushed the door open as wide as it would go, using the little bit of moonlight that managed to creep over the threshold to look around. The crypt was empty and dusty, no furniture scattered around or candles on every available surface. She sank down to the dirty floor in the exact spot where his armchair had been… would be… whatever… and tried to calm her nerves. She needed a plan and she needed it quick. Willow was about to discover that Oz’s room had been emptied of all his stuff and she was going to break down completely and do the ‘My Will Be Done’ spell. That had to not happen.

Or did it? What if that was one of the things she couldn’t change? Should she try to stop it anyway? And what if the spell was what made Spike fall in love with her? If it didn’t happen, would he still? God, all this was making her head hurt again. She wished she’d taken more time to talk to Spike when she’d had the numerous chances he’d given her. Finding out when he’d fallen for her and what had triggered his feelings would be mucho helpful right now. Yeah, they’d talked a little those last few nights before the big battle, but it hadn’t gotten very deep or soul searching. Oh, he’d tried, but she’d cut him off, just like she always had when his words had started burrowing under the walls around her heart. Whenever he’d started chipping away at her defenses, she’d slapped up new and improved barriers, determined not to let him in. She had given him one of those crumbs he’d talked about though, promising to have a heart to heart with him _after_ the battle, but of course it was impossible to have a heart to heart with a pile of dust at the bottom of a huge crater. One more promise broken.

She smacked herself harshly in the forehead. “God, I was an idiot. But not this time. This time I’m going to do things differently… better.”

Buffy took a deep steadying breath and thought hard about what else had been going on in her life during this time, hoping to get some kind of hint to tell her what to do. “Oh crap! Riley!” She was just starting her thing with Riley. They were supposed to have a picnic tomorrow and he’d invite her to go driving with him. “Well, that is so not going to happen… ever. I don’t care what Whistler says about some stuff not changing. Riley is one thing I will NOT do. So now what? I’ve already changed the timeline by leaving when I did and not being around for Willow to cry to about Oz. Will that make her try the spell sooner? Will she even do it at all? She did the whole ‘beer bad’ thing at the Bronze before she made with the mojo last time, but… Aaargh! This is getting me nowhere!”

She balled her hands into fists and thumped them on her thighs. “Okay, first things first. This Spike doesn’t love me… doesn’t even like me as far as I can tell, so it’s not like I can just jump on him and declare my undying love. He’d probably laugh himself into a stroke if I did and then spend the rest of my life snarking at me about it. So, no letting him know how I really feel. If he’s supposed to love me, I want him to figure that out on his own. Just having him here, whole and not dusty, is enough for now.” 

So how to fix things? She couldn’t just let the gang keep him tied up, tormenting him and treating him like crap, eventually driving him to try to stake himself. Being chipped and unable to feed or defend himself was bad enough. Being the butt of Xander’s – and hers, if she was being honest with herself – cruel jokes about his fanglessness was something she was going to try to prevent this time around. Because of their malicious treatment in the first timeline, he’d spent most of his time looking for ways to get the chip out instead of adapting to his new way of unlife, and he’d only started helping when he’d run out of other options and had grudgingly accepted his biteless status. That was time she didn’t want to waste. She wanted to get him on board sooner, wanted him fighting beside her now… but how? 

“He needs to feel needed and accepted – even if he won’t admit it, Mister I’m a Big Bad Evil Vampire and I don’t need anybody and I don’t have to explain why I stuck around taking care of a crazy ho-bag for over a century even though she did nothing but treat me like her little servant boy and cheat on me every chance she got…” She closed her eyes as she pulled a deep breath, then another. “Ok… Feeling like he’s needed and accepted is a major piece of his puzzle, and if I want to get him on my side faster… or at all… I’m going to have to show him that I trust him.”

With the barest structure of a plan forming in her mind, she got to her feet and started out of the crypt, mumbling to herself under her breath. “He knows something; I could see it all over his face, so I’m gonna have to play this cool. Try to get him to trust me. And the only way to do that is to let him loose, treat him like a man instead of a prisoner, and I guess just see what happens. See if he’ll be the man I know he can be without having to be totally broken down first.”

XXXX

She walked slowly through the streets of Sunnydale, taking in the sight of undemolished buildings, mostly happy citizens going about their business, and the general non-craterness of the place. She had to smile at the furtive glances over shoulders as said citizens passed dark alleyways, always moving just a little faster across the unlit portions of the sidewalk than the brightly lit portions. Even as patently oblivious as they seemed, they knew deep down – even though they wouldn’t acknowledge that they knew – that the proverbial ‘things that go bump in the night’ were all too real in their sleepy little town. A town that she was not surprised to admit she’d missed. Yeah, traveling around Europe had been interesting, and would’ve been fun if she hadn’t been shrouded in a black robe of grief the whole time, but still. It wasn’t home. Sunnydale was. Hellmouth and all, Sunnydale was her town and she was glad to be back.

Her circuitous route took her past many familiar places, The Espresso Pump, The Bronze, her Mom’s gallery, and the Magic Box, before she finally turned toward the apartment she’d exited in such a rush a couple of hours ago. She needed to talk to Spike, but she really didn’t want to do that with Giles looking over her shoulder, so she was trying to come up with an excuse as to why she needed to take the vampire elsewhere.

She still hadn’t come up with anything convincing when she reached his door. She peeked in the window, smiling when she saw Giles slumped on the couch with a large book in his lap, fast asleep. Yeah, she could work with that. She let herself into the apartment, fully engaging her Slayer stealth so she wouldn’t wake him. He probably wouldn’t be too happy to find her releasing his bathtub buddy, and since she hadn’t come up with a good reason to do that, it was better that he didn’t know. Besides, it had always been easier to beg his forgiveness than ask his permission.

Spike looked up at her suspiciously when she eased the bathroom door open and slipped inside. “Who are you?” He tensed up, raising his hands defensively as she crept closer. “ **What** are you?”

She dropped to her knees beside the tub, holding a finger to her lips for a second before she whispered, “I’m me. I’m Buffy.” He snorted loudly and she clapped her hand over his mouth as she listened intently for any movement from the living room. Satisfied that Giles was still in the land of nod, she continued in a quieter whisper, “I know this is weird and I know you have questions, but I can’t answer them here, so I’m going to unchain you and we’ll go somewhere else to talk. Do you promise to behave?”

He stared at her for a long minute then nodded under her hand as he cut his eyes to the cabinet at the end of the tub. His lips tickled against her palm when he whispered, “Key’s up there.”

She lifted her hand away and got up to retrieve the key, trying to unlock the shackles with as little clanking as possible. Spike stood slowly and stretched, managing to hide the wince as the movement aggravated his many unhealed injuries. He stepped carefully out of the tub, still eyeing her warily as she backed toward the door. He wasn’t entirely sure that this wasn’t some kind of ruse meant to trick him into trying to escape so she’d feel justified in staking the poor helpless creature he’d been reduced to. Or maybe she was hoping to use him as bait. Get him out into the open so the soldier boys could recapture him and she’d be able to follow them to their hideout. The stark whiteness of his cell flashed across his mind and his nostrils flared at the remembered scents of disinfectant, his spilled blood, and agonizing pain. 

She saw the fear flicker across his features and tried to smile reassuringly. “I promise to explain as much as I can, Spike, but I need you to trust me. I’m not going to hurt you or dust you or turn you over to the Initiative, I promise. Slayer’s honor.”

He tilted his head, “Turn me over to who now?”

“The commandos, that’s who they work for… just… come on, let’s get out of here.”


	3. To The Bitter End

Do-Over  
Chapter Three – To The Bitter End

Spike turned his coffee cup slowly in his hands, staring down at the dark liquid as it sloshed gently against the sides. “So… what it boils down to is you’ve come back in time to keep a souled up me from burnin’ to save the world. Right.” He looked up at her incredulously, “And you expect me to believe that load of bollocks? That I’m gonna turn into a white hat and go about fightin’ my own kind? Think you’ve got the wrong vampire – that’s Angel’s gig.”

Buffy sighed. This was not going as well as she’d hoped. She’d forgotten just how untrusting Spike had been before he’d started looking at everything through his ‘I love Buffy’ glasses. This Spike didn’t believe what she said just because she was the one saying it. The first hour’s worth of explanations had resulted in derisive looks and dark glares as she’d explained how he’d started to help in the fight against evil and had eventually become a hero. He’d cheered up a little when she’d told him that he could still fight demons, but his smile had soon turned back down into a frown, relaxing only slightly when she’d told him about trusting him with her sister and her Mom, then setting itself firmly into concrete as she’d continued her tale, carefully editing out anything that had to do with him loving her. “I know it sounds crazy, but that’s how it went. You switched sides and became a Champion.”

Spike snorted, “And what inspired this sea change, hmmm? What drove me to get my soul? I know it’s not the buggerin’ chip. I can adapt to baggin’ my meals so long as I can still get a good spot of violence, so what was it? Must’ve been somethin’ quite spectacular, bein’ that a soul is generally the very last thing a vampire would want, ‘specially one as old as I am, and the last time I checked, Dru was the barmy one in the family, not me.” He tilted his head as he considered the woman across the table. “I don’t think you’re tellin’ me all there is to tell, are you, luv?”

The endearment slipping off his tongue with such ease made Buffy’s heart clench painfully. “I’ve told you all I can, Spike. Yeah, there’s some things I left out, but if I tell you then it might screw up this timeline and I don’t think The Powers will let me come back to fix things **again**. I think this is the only do-over I’m going to get, so I want to make sure I don’t mess it up. And if you weren’t all percepto-guy with the smelling and everything, I wouldn’t even have had to tell you any of this and I could have…”

“And what you’re keepin’ from me could unduly influence my decisions? Is that what you’re worried about?”

She nodded as she fiddled with her napkin. “Yeah, pretty much. I know this is a lot to handle all at once, but with the way you were looking at me earlier, I knew you’d figured something out and if I’d tried to be the Buffy I was…”

“I’d have called you on it and that’d throw a spanner in the works, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So you’re not gonna tell your Mum or your mates or your Watcher ‘bout all this? Just me?” She nodded and the look on his face caused her to smile when he sputtered, “Why? ‘M not your pal, not one of your inner circle. Up ‘till a bit ago I was your prisoner. I know we had that truce when my poofter grandsire lost that useless detachable soul of his, but I’m really gonna be the only one in on your little secret? What makes you think I’ll keep your confidence? How do you know I won’t run about shoutin’ it from the bloody rooftops?”

_‘He’s doing that whole ‘protesting too much’ thing. I’ve got him! He believes me!’_ Buffy managed to keep the smirk off her face as she nodded toward the door to the diner. “There’s the door, Spike. You’re not my prisoner anymore and I won’t keep you from leaving if that’s what you want, but I don’t think it is. You’re not going to tell anybody about this, are you?”

Spike squirmed and looked just a little uncomfortable as he grudgingly admitted, “Well… no… but that’s not the point. I just don’t understand why **you** think I won’t.”

Buffy pinned him with an intense gaze, willing him to see the sincerity in her eyes as she said slowly and forcefully, “Because I trust you, Spike. I know you won’t betray me. You didn’t give Dawnie up even though you were being tortured by a Hell God, and you were the only one who stood by me when everybody mutinied and I was kicked out of my own house. I trust you. With my life.”

He held her gaze for a few seconds then dropped his eyes to his coffee cup. “But that wasn’t me.”

She reached across the table and laid her fingertips lightly on the backs of his hands as they cradled his cup. “Not yet, but it could be. You have it in you to be a good man.”

He looked up at her, disbelief warring with hope in his eyes, then pulled his hands away, dropping them into his lap. “I’m not a good man, Slayer. Not a man at all. ‘M a monster. A soulless, evil thing. The soddin’ Big Bad, and the only reason I haven’t ripped your throat out for even suggestin’ the idea of me bein’ good is this bit of government hardware in my brain. I came back to this cursed shit heap to make you my third, you know, not to join your merry band of do-gooders.”

Buffy smiled slightly. “Yeah, I know. You were gonna get your one good day. You told me once about the other Slayers you killed, but I don’t have a death wish, Spike. Not anymore.” Spike’s eyes widened and Buffy continued, “Boxer rebellion? Her sword gave you that scar on your eyebrow. And Nikki Wood in New York. That’s where you got your duster. Yeah, you were all with the bragging, Mr. The Bloody. You even showed me the moves you used and walked me through how the fights went down.”

His mouth dropped open in shock then he reeled it in and whispered, “I told you ‘bout them? Bragged ‘bout killin’ your sister slayers… and you didn’t stake me for it?”

Shame clouded her features as she mumbled, “No. But what I did was worse than staking you. And I’m sorry. You’re not beneath me and I never should’ve said that you were, but I didn’t know then how those words would hurt you. I didn’t find out about Cecily until later.”

His eyes widened further then narrowed suspiciously. His head tilted and his hands came back up to the table to cradle his coffee cup. “What was I to you, Slayer? In that other timeline.”

Oh crap. Buffy’s eyes dropped to the table top as she stammered, “Like I said, you helped out and I relied on you to protect my Mom and my sister.”

“And that’s all I was? Extra muscle? A bodyguard? Nothin’ more?”

Damn insightful vampire. “We were… uh… kind of friends, I guess.”

“Friends.” The way he said the word, long and drawn out in that slow drawl of his, made her look up. He was smirking. “I’m thinkin’ it was a bit more than that, luv. ‘M not in the habit of revealin’ my deepest darkest secrets to someone who’s only a **kind of friend**. What? Did you keep me around to use for a bit of cold comfort when things got to be too much? Whisper your secrets in my ear? Dead men tell no tales and all that. Is that what I was to you?” 

She blanched slightly as his words hit just a little too close to home. Yeah, right. Close to home. Like hell. He’d hit the freaking bull’s-eye, right smack in the center. She had used him. She’d used him horribly. Never taking his feelings into account, denying to herself that he even **had** feelings, but still using the feelings she wouldn’t acknowledge to get him to do her bidding. And the ‘secrets in his ear’ thing? Yeah. He’d sung that to her, not those exact words, but close enough. And she wasn’t going to go down that path this time. She wasn’t.

His eyes scanned her from the top of her head to where the table blocked his view, his smirk melting into a leer. “Did you use the Big Bad for a bit of relief from the stresses of Slayerdom? Human blokes don’t do it for you, yeah? They’re too fragile… too easily broken if you let yourself go. Bet you need a bit of monster in your man, don’t you, Slayer?”

His leer sent a blush of heat all through her body and she shifted in her seat. God! Was somebody feeding him these lines? She tried to throw him a glare, although she wasn’t sure how effective it was with the way she was probably blushing, and whispered fiercely, “You’re a pig, Spike.”

He threw his head back and laughed; long and loud, then wiped his eyes and slouched further into the seat, a cocky smirk plastered across his face. “Bet that’s not the first time you’ve told me that, is it?”

Buffy smiled then started giggling. “No. That and ‘Shut up, Spike’ were probably the things I said to you the most.”

“I’ve no doubt.” He sat up and propped his elbows on the table, a suddenly serious look on his face. “You’ve apparently told me everything you can… so what now? What do you want from me?”

Buffy was suddenly terrified. What if he didn’t want to stay? They didn’t really need him to get information on the Initiative anymore, she knew all she needed to know to defeat Adam, so, in theory, he was free to go wherever he wanted, do whatever he wanted, within the chip’s boundaries, of course, but still. There was nothing tying him here, so she had to find some incentive to make him want to stick around. “Uh… well… I’d like it if you, you know, helped out. Like you did in the original timeline. You’re one of the best fighters I’ve ever seen and with what we’ll be facing trying to take down the Initiative and Glory and all the other baddies lining up for a shot at the Hellmouth; I could really use another strong fighter in my corner.”

He puffed up a little at the praise then sneered. “Fine plan for you, luv, but what’s in it for me? I get to spend all my time trussed up in the Watcher’s loo, hoverin’ on the brink of starvation ‘til you let me out to kill somethin’, right? You’re not paintin’ a very pleasant picture here, you know. Don’t much fancy playin’ the part of caged attack demon in your little production of ‘As the Hellmouth Turns.’”

“You’re not my caged attack anything, Spike, and you won’t be chained up anywhere anymore. We’ll find you somewhere to live and I’ll make sure you’re fed. Um… you lived in a crypt in my time, but it took you a couple years to make it actually livable. If you don’t want to mess with that, you could probably move into the basement at my house. My Mom liked you, so I don’t think she’d mind, and there’s cable and hot water and a microwave for heating blood. I can find out if Willy will deliver blood for you, and in the other timeline, you had a demon friend named Clem that you played kitten poker with a lot. So you could hang out with him or help me patrol or train or…”

“And what makes you think I want to be your tame little housevamp? Hangin’ about lookin’ after your Mum while I wait to be summoned by the almighty Slayer? Next thing I know, you’ll have me hand washin’ your frillies and expect me to have dinner ready and waitin’ when you get home!”

Buffy’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t… that’s not what I want. If you don’t want to stay here, you don’t have to… I just… I was hoping…” She looked up at him, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “I’m just… I’m not ready for you to not be here.” _‘I just got you back, Spike. Please don’t leave me.’_

Spike stared at her, smelling the salt of the tears she was struggling valiantly to keep from shedding, and the light bulb went on over his head, shocking him to his very core. _‘She loves me… him. She fell in love with him in that other timeline and he dusted and she came back in time to keep that from happening. Did he love her?’_ Images of Drusilla suddenly started circling his brain, and the concrete belief he’d always held that his love for her was eternal crumbled into dust. He was sure that his eyes were as wide as saucers as he was shocked right to his core… again. He’d suddenly realized that his love for Dru had weakened considerably over the last few years – had started to bleed away the very first time he’d seen the Slayer, as a matter of fact – but it hadn’t fully registered until it was gone completely, blowing away like vamp dust on the wind. _‘She knew. She told me I was covered in the Slayer, that she could see her floating all around me. And she bloody well knew I didn’t love her anymore. That’s why she let me go.’_

He managed to school his features into the semblance of a smile even though he was feeling rather knocked off his foundation at the moment. He’d wondered at the lack of a gaping Dru-shaped hole in his heart for a while now, but figured that maybe it just hadn’t hit yet. That he’d been too distracted with finding the gem while dealing with Harm’s prattle and inane ramblings about France, then losing the gem and taking a little field trip to torture his grandsire trying to get it back, and then managing to get himself captured and neutered – you know, he’d been keeping busy – but now… He didn’t hurt. Yeah, he’d be the first to admit that Harm had been a bad idea, but he’d been trying to delay what he’d thought was an inevitable conclusion… that losing Dru would make him want to dust himself, but the thought that he would never again be with her **didn’t** make him want to walk into the sunlight. And that was just… huh. 

One tear finally breaking the barrier and tracking down Buffy’s cheek pulled his attention back to her and he decided to put whatever he did or didn’t feel for Dru on the back burner and focus on the conversation they were still having. He replayed her last comment and tried on that smile again, finding that it fit a little better this time. “That’s not the first time you’ve said that to me either, I reckon.”

Buffy returned his smile with one a bit watery and nodded. “I told you that during the whole thing with The First. You wanted to leave because you could still be triggered and you didn’t want to hurt anyone.”

He nodded slowly and reached to the end of the table, snagging a napkin to pick at to keep his hands occupied. Bloody no-smoking laws. Normally, he’d disregard them and light up anyway, but they seemed to be getting down to brass tacks and he didn’t want to break the moment by getting them kicked out of the diner. Especially now that he couldn’t bite the blighters that annoyed him. He desperately needed a fag and a shot… no, a bottle… or three… of some strong liquor to fortify him for the next segment of their conversation. He snagged another napkin. It would have to do… for now. “How long?”

“How long… what?”

“How long have you loved me… him… your Spike?”

“What? I… no…” He threw her a knowing glance and she sighed. She never could hide anything from him. “A while. I didn’t… couldn’t… tell him that, though, until he was already burning in the Hellmouth.” Her voice dropped to a barely audible whisper, “And he didn’t believe me.”

Their napkins were slowly being shredded, leaving little piles of torn paper scattered around the table top. “Why didn’t he?”

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Because I… look, I didn’t want to get into this. It’s one of the things I really want to change. I’m not going to be that person this time.”

“Did he love you?”

She swallowed heavily and croaked out. “I can’t tell you that.”

“Why not?”

She looked up at him. “Because I know you, Spike. You do everything that you’re not supposed to… you eat human food, move around during the day, make alliances with your enemy, fight for your soul… so if I say that he did love me, you won’t, and if I say that he didn’t, you will. It’s just how you are, and I’m going to try not to steer you in one direction or the other. I want to be your friend and I need your help. Can we just leave it at that? Please?”

Spike knew himself as well, and even though Buffy wouldn’t tell him what the other Spike’s feelings had been toward her, he had a pretty good idea. He’d loved her. Because loving her – the PTB’s warrior for light, for all things good and pure, Christmas and puppies and what all – would’ve been the only thing that could’ve made him want to work to change his very nature. And look what it’d gotten the other Spike. He’d immolated himself in the soddin’ Hellmouth all for the love of a woman that had, for whatever reason, not returned his love until it was too bloody late. He sighed deeply and crumpled the remnants of his latest napkin victim in his fist. _‘Love's bitch to the bitter end. Bloody hell.’_


	4. Scary Glares

Do-Over  
Chapter Four – Scary Glares

The street was quiet as they made their way toward Revello Drive, each lost in their own thoughts.

Buffy was nervous. About Spike and what the new and hopefully much improved future held for them, and about talking to the Scoobies for the first time in this timeline. She had so much to try to make right and she wasn’t even remotely sure where to begin, but right now she was mostly nervous about seeing her Mom. Her Mom… alive and healthy. She knew she couldn’t do what she desperately wanted to do when she got home – she had to keep calm… keep it together… act like it hadn’t been years since she’d seen her – but all she wanted to do was throw herself into her Mommy’s arms and hold on tight.

Spike was wondering at the strange turn his unlife had recently taken. After Dru had binned him, he’d come back to the Hellmouth hell bent on notching a third slayer into his belt so he could return to his Sire, triumphant and once again demon enough for her, and they could continue the carnage and blood-soaked lifestyle he’d become accustomed to. But now here he was, walking in companionable silence with that very slayer down the tree-lined streets of the town that had witnessed the most spectacular kickings of his ass. The latest round of Kick The Spike had, for all intents and purposes, defanged him, and now he was forced to rely on the mercy and kindness of his sworn enemy. And what was really twisting him up was the fact that it wasn’t bothering him or his demon as much as he thought it should. 

He was actually considering switching sides based on nothing but the word of a supposed time traveling slip of a girl that he’d have gleefully drained a few days… well, weeks… ok, months... He sighed loudly, _‘Oh hell, who am I kidding? I haven’t wanted to kill the bint since Acathla. Wouldn’t have killed her even if she hadn’t managed to get the ring off me. Was just havin’ a bit of a dance with her, and if it’d come down to it… I’d have let her go. The world’s a brighter place with her in it.’_ He reached up and ran his fingers through his hair. He swore he could almost feel the white hat settling itself onto his head, and again, that thought didn’t bother him… or his demon… near as much as it should. And wasn’t that just a kick in the pants.

He gently bumped Buffy’s arm with his own and said quietly, “All right, Slayer, say I do decide to stay… help out your little band of white hats, and I’m not sayin’ that I am, but if I do… I have a few conditions.”

She glanced over at him, the moonlight highlighting the sharpness of his cheekbones. “Which are?”

“Ok, first off, and this’ll probably be a deal breaker, but I want human blood. Won’t stay at full strength if I’m drinkin’ pig swill. I know it’s what my poofter of a grandsire lives on, but…”

“You’re nothing like Angel. I know, Spike. You’ve only been telling me that for years, so been there, done that, got the t-shirt. I’ll talk to Willy.”

He tried to keep the shock off his face at her easy acceptance and failed miserably. “You agree? Just like that? No argument? The poofter didn’t regale you with tales of his uncontrollable blood lust when he’s allowed to drink human?”

Buffy nodded. “He did, but like I said, I know you’re nothing like him. I know you can control your demon, Spike. I’ve seen you control it.”

“When?”

“When Willow brought me back, I was different. Your chip didn’t work on me anymore and you could’ve killed me anytime, but you didn’t. Not like I didn’t give you tons of reasons to, but you controlled your demon. You never even vamped out once when we…” She stopped suddenly, terrified that she’d said too much.

“When we what? Fought? We did still dance, didn’t we? Sparred or something?”

Buffy heaved a relieved sigh… internally. “Yeah. When we fought. You never vamped when we fought so I know you have control and I have no problem with you drinking **donated** human blood.” She looked hard at Spike, driving her point home. “ **Freely** donated. Not coerced donation by some demon kidnapping humans and bleeding them to sell the blood to Willy. I know the humans aren’t killed, but still. I’ll make sure Willy knows the difference and what will happen to his weasely little self if he forgets the difference.”

Spike muttered, “But that makes the blood richer… the fear…”

Buffy stopped and crossed her arms over her chest. “Tough. That one’s non-negotiable. Freely donated or pig. You pick.”

A grumbled, “Fine. As long as it’s human,” made Buffy grin as she started walking again, Spike striding fast to catch up as he pressed on, “Right then. Blood’s sorted. Movin’ on to my next condition. I want the footie channel on telly.” Her nose wrinkled up in a way that he found to be amazingly adorable and he stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk. _‘Adorable? Since when do I think my mortal enemy is bleedin’ **adorable**? Is this how it started in the other time line? Did I start seein’ the girl instead of the warrior?’ _

Buffy turned around when she noticed he was no longer beside her and smiled at the look on his face. “Spike? You okay?”

He shook himself and took determined steps, not slowing down as he passed her, and completely missing her smirk as she hurried to catch up. “Just havin’ a hard time wrappin’ my brain round all this, Slayer. I knew when I came to you for help that your lot, and especially you, wouldn’t trust me… not that I’ve given you much of a reason to, truce aside. I expected to be tied up, starved, probably tortured a bit, and then most likely staked when I’d outlived my usefulness, so you springin’ me and all the rest of it is throwin’ me for a dilly of a loop.”

“You expected us to… to… torture you? Stake you? And you came to us anyway? For God’s sake, why?”

He shrugged. “Had nowhere else to go. Harm kicked me out… not that I blame her; I did stake her to test the gem. And I didn’t know at the time that I could still fight demons, so I figured that any demon I went to would either dust me outright or sell me off as a plaything, and there’s no way I could’ve gone to Angel. Not after…”

Buffy smiled just a little. “Your trip to LA. You told me about it.”

“Yeah. I imagine he wouldn't be very happy to see me just now, not that he ever **is** happy to see me, nor I him, but with the memory of me havin’ him stuck full of hot pokers fresh in his mind, doubt he’d even let me explain ‘fore he hauled me off somewhere for a few rounds of ‘Special Fun Time – Angelus Style.’”

“So you thought us torturing you and then staking you was the better alternative? Why would you think we’d do that? We’re the good guys, remember?”

He shrugged again, “We were enemies. That’s how you treat an enemy.”

Buffy smiled widely at the ‘were’ in that sentence, not sure if Spike realized what he’d said as she climbed the steps to her front door and unlocked it, pushing it wide. She stepped in and called for her Mom then turned to see Spike standing just outside, his expression worried. “What’s wrong?”

“You’ve got to invite me in, Slayer, ‘less you’ve changed your mind.” He dropped his gaze to the toes of his boots. “Won’t hurt your Mum, if that’s what’s worryin’ you. Wouldn’t even if I could, she’s a right fine lady.”

Buffy looked over as Joyce pushed through the kitchen door then said quietly, “I know that, Spike, that’s why your invitation wasn’t revoked.” Her mind supplied the ‘yet’ and she winced internally. _‘Yeah, I left my home open to a vicious, dangerous vampire until he told me he loved me, and **then** I shut him out even though his love guaranteed that he’d never hurt me or anyone I cared about. God, I’m so messed up.’ _

His look of wonder made her smile again as he stepped carefully over the threshold then nodded at Joyce. “Evening, Mrs. Summers.”

She threw an inquisitive glance at Buffy. “What’s going on?” Then she glared at Spike. “You haven’t kidnapped Buffy’s friends again, have you?”

He contritely ducked his head and shuffled his feet. “No, Mum. Her mates are all safe and sound as far as I know. ‘M not here to cause trouble, I give you my word.”

Joyce gave him a stern look, “You’d better not be,” then she looked at Buffy and asked again, “What’s going on?”

Buffy just stood there, drinking in the sight of her mother as her brain refused to form words. She opened her mouth, hoping that something intelligent would fall out of it, and the phone rang, startling her. Her hand shot out and she scooped it up, her brain resetting as she stammered, “H..Hello?”

“Oh, Buffy, thank goodness!”

She put the phone on speaker mode before she asked with mock concern, “Giles? What’s wrong?” She threw a smirk at Spike as he leaned his shoulder against the wall next to the phone table.

“Would you come round straight away? I’m afraid we have a bit of an emergency. You see… I didn’t intend to fall asleep and I'd thought he was completely secure, so I don’t know how he managed it, but… Spike’s escaped.”

Buffy giggled. “No, he didn’t. I unchained him and he’s with me.”

“He’s… You… What?”

Buffy nodded at the vampire and he chuckled. “’Lo, Watcher. I’ve not scarpered and the Slayer’s got me well in hand, I assure you.”

"Buffy! Good Lord, why would you do that? He's dangerous! What were you thinking?"

Buffy rolled her eyes at Spike’s muttered, ‘Got that bloody right,’ then let her smile show in her voice as she said, "I was thinking about flies and honey."

"Er… What?"

"Well, we weren't getting any information out of him by threatening him and taunting him, and have you ever heard the saying that you'll catch more flies with honey..."

"Than with vinegar, yes, I'm familiar with the adage."

"And I just thought he'd be more with the gut spillage about the commandos if I asked him nicely... treated him like a man... and he did. He's told me pretty much everything we need to know to take them down. You won't believe what they're doing or what they’re planning, Giles."

"How do you know he's telling you the truth? Does he have any proof of their plans? Willow suggested a truth spell…"

"We don’t need a spell, Giles. He gave me his word and Spike keeps his word. You and I know that better than anyone. We can trust him." She smiled at Spike’s look of gratitude.

"Acathla, yes, I remember, but do **you** remember that he just recently tried to kill you?" 

Spike winced slightly at Joyce’s glare then shrugged and nodded with a small smile when Buffy replied, "No, I haven’t forgotten, but that's kind of our thing, or at least it was because he can’t hurt me now. Besides, I've made a deal with him."

She could hear Giles cleaning his glasses as he sighed, "And what, pray tell, does this 'deal' consist of?"

"We give him protection from the Initiative – that's the commando guys – and give him a place to stay and keep him fed and he helps out with the slaying."

"And how, exactly, is he going to do that with his... handicap? Surely you don't expect him to research or fetch donuts and pizza."

"He can fight demons. We found out his chip doesn't work on them when we ran across a couple of vamps on the way here." Spike quirked an eyebrow and Buffy shrugged and mouthed, “Had to tell him something.”

"Chip? What are you talking about?”

Buffy sighed, “That’s what they did to him down in the Initiative labs. They implanted a microchip in his brain that shocks him if he tries to hurt anything human.”

Spike growled angrily, “Not all they bloody did to me.”

Either Giles didn’t hear Spike, or he chose to ignore him, but Buffy gave him a definite ‘we are talking about that later’ look as Giles spoke, the derision almost dripping from the phone. “You mean to tell me that one of the most notoriously bloodthirsty vampires in recent history has decided to turn his back on his very nature and fight on our side for no more than blood and a bed? Have I gotten that correct?"

Spike spoke up, “And footie on the telly. Don’t forget that bit, Slayer. Oh, and fags and liquor. Need those as well.”

Buffy rolled her eyes at Spike. "Yep. He's gonna be part of the team from now on." She heard Giles draw in a breath and said before he could, "Xander... I know. He's not going to like it and Willow probably won't either, but they're just gonna have to deal. I'm the Slayer and I decide who's on my team and who isn't. Now, I’ve gotta go, but I’ll bring Spike by for a Scooby meeting tomorrow and we’ll get everything figured out then. Okay?"

“All right, Buffy, but please answer me this… Where is Spike going to be… uh… living?”

Buffy smiled at Spike then shot a pleading glance at Joyce, who’d been following the conversation closely. Buffy could tell she had a lot of questions, but she sent a soft, motherly look to Spike then nodded at her daughter. Buffy let out a sigh of relief and smiled at the phone. “Don’t worry, Giles, you’ve got your bathtub back… no more chained up vampires in it. Spike’s gonna stay at my house. See you tomorrow!” She disconnected the call before Giles could even start to sputter. “Okay, that meeting is going to be a world of fun.”

Spike smirked. “I imagine there’ll be more than a few bits of pointy wood aimed in my direction.”

Buffy shook her head. “Just stay behind me. I’ll explain and get them to understand that you’re on our side now.”

Spike looked mightily offended. “Not gonna hide behind your skirts, Slayer. ‘M not that bloody pathetic.”

Buffy laid a soothing hand on his arm, a motion that didn’t go unnoticed by Joyce. “I didn’t mean it like that, but I know how they are… dust first, yell recriminations at me later, and I didn’t do all this just to lose…” 

She stuttered to a halt and Spike nodded slowly. “I get it, pet. And thanks.”

Joyce decided that she’d stayed quiet long enough. “All right, you two, into the living room. Looks like it’s going to be a long night.” She threw a glare at Buffy, “You, young lady, are going to explain to me exactly how often you chain people up in Rupert’s bathtub,” then the glare settled on Spike, “And you, young man, are going to explain that part about trying to kill my daughter… again.” The glare bounced between the two quailing blondes. “And you’d both better make it good.” Her face melted into a smile as she started for the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, “You want some cocoa, Spike? I’ve got the little marshmallows.”

Spike quickly checked the surrounding area for axes or other sharp, pointy implements then smiled warmly as he dropped down onto the couch. “That’d be lovely, Joyce. Ta.” He nudged Buffy as she sat down next to him. “I see where you get those scary glares, luv. Your Mum could make a Fyarl demon wet his knickers.”

Buffy’s eyes settled on the kitchen door and she smiled warmly. “I know. I really missed her.”


	5. A Lot To Think About

Do-Over  
Chapter Five – A Lot To Think About

“I’m not going to put Spike in the basement, Buffy. He’s a guest, not a box of Christmas ornaments, so he’ll stay in the guest room.”

“But Spike’s a vampire, Mom. Spike and sunlight… not so mixy.”

“So I’ll cover all the windows. No big deal.”

“I don’t want you to have to live in the dark ‘cause of me, Joyce. I’ll be just fine in the basement, I’m sure.”

“Spike, I assume that being a vampire makes you nocturnal, right?” Spike nodded. “So, we’ll put up blackout curtains in your room and I’ll just close the blinds in the rest of the house so you’re able to move around if you need to while I’m at the gallery. If you’re still asleep when I get home, I’ll open the blinds until you wake up. We’ll make it work.”

Spike smiled warmly. “As you wish, Mum.”

Joyce stood up. “All right. I’m going to go make up the guest bedroom. Buffy, could you go down to the basement and find something to cover the windows until I can get some different curtains?”

“Sure, Mom. Spike, do you want to help?”

Spike drained the rest of his cocoa and set the cup on the tray. “Lead the way, Slayer.”

He followed her down into the basement then stretched to get the box of extra blankets off the top of the stack in the corner that Buffy pointed to. The movement pulled the stitches of the Y-shaped incision in his torso and made the edges of his sternum grate together where it had been cracked open, but he did an admirable job of clamping down on the hiss of pain. She was standing quietly behind him when he turned around, the box in his hands. “How’d you know?”

His head tilted. “Know?”

“That I wasn’t the Buffy from this time.”

“Oh. Didn’t know that’s what’d happened, just knew some mojo’d gone down. You’d just turned to your Watcher and said somethin’ ‘bout me scoldin’ you and when you turned back round, you froze then flickered a bit ‘fore you solidified.”

“Did Giles see it?”

“Don’t think so. He was lookin’ right at you, but I think it happened too quickly for human eyes to catch. Figured my hunger was makin’ me delirious ‘till I scented you.”

Buffy smiled. “And the smelling thing is still creepy, Spike. What was different?”

“Before, aside from your regular Slayer and Buffy scents, you smelled of confidence… someone who’s sure of the world and their place in it. After, your scent was still confident, just less so, and more… world-weary… like you’d seen more than your fair share of tragedy. And you smell slightly of death.”

“Well, I was dead for several months.” _‘Not to mention I committed suicide just a few hours ago.’_

“Yeah, until the littlest witch brought you back. That’s a frightenin’ amount of dark power for one so young, you know that, right? Please tell me she understands that all magic has consequences, especially dark magic. And not all the consequences are pleasant.”

Buffy rolled her eyes toward the ceiling with a tired sigh, “The Willow of my time does, but this one? No, she really doesn’t. Her bringing me back is what allowed The First to break through in my time. It upset the balance between good and evil and of course she didn’t stop to consider that before she did the spell. If I don’t do something to change it, she’ll get it in her head that she can fix anyone and anything with magic. She’ll use it for things that she could easily do by hand and she’ll mess with people’s memories and lives because they don’t act the way she thinks they should or do the things she thinks they should. In my time, tomorrow actually, she did a spell to have her will done because she wanted to stop being in pain over Oz leaving and she made Giles blind, Xander a demon magnet that almost got him and Anya killed, and you and I…” Buffy trailed off, biting her bottom lip nervously.

There went the eyebrow and the head tilt. “You and I… what?”

“Well, Willow was upset because you’d escaped and I had to go find you instead of hanging out with her, so she said that if you were so important to me that I should just marry you.”

“What?!”

“Yeah. You got down on one knee with a ring and everything. We were planning our wedding, and I asked Giles to give me away, and you called him your father, and I was macking on you instead of fighting the demons that were trying to kill Xander… It was a huge mess.”

Spike’s eyes glazed over slightly as he imagined kissing the woman standing in front of him then he shook himself and cleared his throat. “And what happened after the spell was broken? Between us, I mean.”

Buffy dropped her eyes to the floor. “Nothing. You complained about having ‘Buffy taste’ in your mouth and I had to go explain to Riley – the guy who would later become my boyfriend – that I wasn’t getting married to a really old guy named Spike, and you and I went back to hating each other.”

Spike almost blurted out, ‘But I don’t hate you… haven’t for some time,’ but managed to catch himself and instead said quietly, “But I still helped you.”

Buffy shook her head. “Not at first. In my time we didn’t find out you could fight demons for a while, so you mostly just moped around. You were seriously giving Angel a run for the gold in the Broodiness Games. Then when you found out you could still fight, you moved into your crypt and…”

“Started helping.”

“Sort of. You helped a couple of times and you’d make us pay you when you did, but mostly you just hung around. Then you teamed up with Adam…” Eyebrow quirked… again. “The Initiative’s version of Frankenstein’s monster that turns into our next Big Bad. He promised to take your chip out.”

“But…”

“He didn’t because your plan to Yoko the Scoobies didn’t work, so you switched sides again and instead saved Giles, Wils, and Xander.”

“And then?”

“You kept hanging around, being your usual snarky, pain in the ass self.”

Spike dropped the box and leaned against the wall. “So when did I…”

Buffy held up her hand. “Look, I could spend the next month mapping it all out for you, but the whole point of me coming back was to change things. I know what’s coming up; even though some of it may not happen now because I’ve already changed the timeline, but if it does, I’ll handle it… we’ll handle it. So can we just not get into details until we need to?”

Spike bent and picked up the box then started for the stairs. “Right. I get your point, Slayer. I’m on a need to know basis… so, what’s the first thing I need to know? What’s the next nasty in the hit parade?”

Buffy followed him, silently thankful that she’d taken his duster and hung it up, because now she had a very nice view of his backside as he climbed the stairs. It was very distracting and she almost forgot to answer his question. “Oh… uh… Willow. I need to make sure she doesn’t do that spell. There’s no telling what would happen this time, so I’d better get back to the dorm and see what’s what.”

Spike stepped into the kitchen and turned to face her, noticing the slight blush staining her cheeks and wondering what had caused it. “All right. I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow at the Watcher’s then. Have fun in your classes.” Buffy’s nose wrinkled up and Spike was struck again by how adorable she was. It didn’t bother him quite as much this time, but he did almost miss what she said.

“…my classes.”

“What, luv? Didn’t quite catch that.”

Buffy gave him a strange look then said slowly, “I forgot about my classes.”

“Oh.”

She sighed. “I should probably stick with them, I guess, although I pretty much gave up the whole ‘higher education’ thing a while ago.”

“Why’s that then?”

She shrugged. “Lots of reasons. Stuff happened, some apocalypty, some slayery, and some just life. Added all together, it didn’t leave a lot of time for actually going to class, and trying to find time to do homework? Um… no.”

“Is that one of the things you want to change? Make sure you’re able to complete your education this time around?”

Buffy shrugged again then shook her head. “No, not really. Even if I get a degree, it’s not like I can get a regular nine to five job with it. Slayer business is always going to come first. There’s always going to be some new Big Bad or another apocalypse just around the corner.” She took in the look of sympathy on Spike’s face and managed a smile. “Don’t worry about it, Spike. I accepted a long time ago that I’m not normal and I never will be. I’m never going to have the cute little house, the minivan, and the 2.8 kids. I’m The Slayer – pretty much the definition of ‘not normal.’ My sister – that the monks haven’t inserted into my life yet – is an inter-dimensional key, one of my best friends is a witch who was dating a werewolf, my other best friend’s girlfriend is an ex-vengeance demon, I had a boyfriend who’s a medically enhanced super human that works for a secret government agency doing experiments on demons, and another boyfriend is a centuries old vampire that goes psychotic when he gets a happy. Nothing about my life is even a little bit normal and I finally figured out that I don’t want it to be. Normal is boring.”

Spike laughed, “That it is, Slayer, that it is.” He started out of the kitchen, still chuckling. “So you’ve embraced the weirdness, have you? Decided to just go with the flow?”

Buffy followed him until he stopped at the foot of the stairs. “Yeah. I spent so much time and energy fighting against it in the other timeline, and in the end, none of it mattered. It didn’t change anything and I just ended up making myself feel miserable and inadequate. I’m surrounded by weird and I always will be, so this time I’m all with the ‘if you can’t beat them…”

“Join ‘em.”

“Right.”

“Guess that’s my motto as well then, Slayer. Least it is now, I suppose. From what you’ve told me and with this chip in my skull, can’t really follow the ‘want – take – have’ motto of vampires the world over. Looks like I’m ‘bout to come over all respectable and whatnot.” He shuddered then nodded toward the top of the stairs as he held up the box. “Your Mum’s waitin’ on these, so…”

Buffy smiled. “Yeah. I’ll come by and get you tomorrow for the meeting.”

Spike smirked. “Gonna make sure I show up, are you? Keep your pet vamp on a tight leash?” He clutched the box with one arm and reached up to trail his fingers across his throat in a movement that caused tingly stirrings in Buffy’s pants. Her eyes moved up from his throat to the leer on his face and those stirrings got decidedly tinglier as he continued in a voice as smooth as melted chocolate. “Hope you know I expect a nice collar to go with it, yeah? Nothin’ too flashy… leather’s always a good choice.”

Buffy’s brain was stuck at ‘Guh’ as she imagined Spike in a collar… ONLY a collar… supple black leather against his pale skin… and she gulped then swallowed hard, her brain finally lurching out of ‘Guh-land’ as it processed what he’d said. She shook her head, speaking vehemently, “You’re not my pet, Spike, or my lackey, or my… my… what do you call a person that follows another person around and sucks up?”

“Sycophant.”

“Yeah, that. You’re not any of those. You’re my friend… at least I hope you are… and if you don’t want to go to the meeting, you don’t have to. I’m not going to force you to do anything.” She looked away, a nervous blush heating her cheeks. “I was going to come get you because I haven’t seen you in a long time and I wanted to spend some time with you before everybody…” She took a deep, annoyed breath. “Before the yelling starts and I have to spend the rest of the night defending my decisions.”

“The calm before the storm?”

She looked up at him and smiled at his smile. “Yeah. Something like that. And I know it offends your evil vampire sensibilities to know that I think of you as calming… when you’re not being a pain in the ass, that is.”

Spike smirked. “Doesn’t offend me as much as it should, Slayer, which in itself is quite alarming. You’ve given me quite a lot to think about, you know. Probably spend most of the night pacin’ round your back garden tryin’ to get my mind round it all.” He nodded toward his duster. “Good thing I’ve a full packet of fags… always think better when I’m smokin’.”

“What about blood? I’ll stop by Willy’s first thing tomorrow and have him deliver some, but will you be ok until then? Do you need some sooner?”

“I’ll be fine, Slayer. The Watcher gave me a bit after you’d run off and that should hold me. Won’t be snackin’ on your Mum.”

“I know that, Spike. Even if you could, you wouldn’t. I trust you.”

“And that’s one of the things I’m gonna have to get my mind round. The Slayer trusts me.” He glanced quickly up the stairs when he heard Joyce humming as she stepped across the hall then looked seriously at Buffy. “What’d they ask for, luv?”

Buffy glanced up the stairs then looked back at Spike. “What did who ask for?”

“The Powers. Those tossers don’t do anythin’ for free, and I’m guessin’ that sendin’ you back to make things right came dear. What’d you have to give them?”

Buffy’s forehead scrunched up in confusion. “Give them? I didn’t give them anything.”

“They didn’t require any kind of payment? No promises? Nothing?”

“Oh… well, yeah. You remember Jenny Calendar? The teacher that gave us the spell to re-soul Angelus?”

“The gypsy bird he killed?”

“Yeah. I had to promise to let her die if they sent me that far back or they wouldn’t send me at all.”

“Bloody hell. That’s quite a high price, luv, askin’ a Slayer to let an innocent die.”

Buffy shrugged. “They probably thought so, but it isn’t, not really. Sure, if they’d asked that of the Buffy of this time, I would’ve said no… loudly and with threats of bodily harm… but after all the stuff that’s happened, all the stuff that made me ‘world-weary’ like you said, I have the chance to make that stuff not happen… and it’s worth it. By agreeing to sacrifice one life, I got the chance to save so many others. I’ve changed, Spike, and I don’t think they realized that when they asked me for that promise. In the first timeline, I refused to sacrifice my sister even with the fate of the world on the line, but by the time The First had rolled into town, if I’d been faced with the same choice again… I’d have let her die. If it had meant saving the world, I’d have let her die.”

Spike nodded solemnly and said, “Yeah, I get that. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one.”

Buffy looked at him in silence for a few seconds then snorted and burst out laughing. “I knew it! I knew you were a closet geek! That’s from Star Wars or something!”

Spike looked indignant. “Actually, it’s from Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, but that phrase is just a bastardized version of something Aristotle wrote, _‘The securing of one individual's good is cause for rejoicing, but to secure the good of a nation or of a city-state is nobler and more divine.’_ And just because it was said by some pointy-eared bloke in a movie doesn’t make it any less applicable.”

Buffy’s laughter tapered off into giggles as she smirked over at the vampire. “You’re a geek and a nerd. That’s so cute.” She nodded at the front door. “And before you go all grrr on me for calling you cute, I’m gonna go… walk me out?” He walked her to the door wearing a wry grin then his breath caught in his throat when she leaned up to whisper in his ear, “I knew you had a big brain buried under all that bleached hair. Always been bad my butt.”

She smiled as she stepped through the door and he stood there in complete shock for a long time after she’d disappeared from view, only startling out of his reverie when Joyce laid her hand on his arm. Buffy had kissed him after she’d whispered in his ear. Just a quick press of her lips to his, but still. Buffy had kissed him and now? Yeah… now he had a lot to think about.


	6. Something To Do

Do-Over  
Chapter Six – Something To Do

“God!” Buffy smacked herself in the forehead. “Way to keep it in the friend zone, Buffy! Yeah, I’ll just tell him we’re friends and then kiss him! That won’t be confusing at all! Aaagh!” She stomped her way across town, replaying the kiss over and over in her mind, not wanting to… well, okay… wanting to, but knowing that she shouldn’t. “I just dropped a major mind-bomb on him, not to mention the fact that his whole unlife has been turned upside down, so let’s just add a little more angst and weirdness! God, this has been a long day. I need sleep. Maybe my brain will start working right when I’m not so freaking tired.”

She was still muttering to herself when she quietly opened her dorm room door and slipped inside. Willow was curled up on top of her blankets, clutching a bundle of cloth to her chest that looked suspiciously like one of Oz’s shirts. Buffy gave her a sad smile as she pulled the blanket folded on the end of the bed over the sleeping witch then looked around the room, re-familiarizing herself with a place she hadn’t seen in a few years. She walked a slow circuit around the small space, picking up then putting down several items as she smiled at the memories they invoked. 

She ended up in front of the closet and grimaced slightly as she looked over her old wardrobe. She pulled a shirt off the rod and held it up. _‘Oh God! What was I thinking when I bought this? Was I going for the Hooker Barbie look? Ewww.’_ She tossed the shirt into the corner of the closet then rifled through the remaining clothes, pulling out the items that wouldn’t make her look like a discount streetwalker and hanging them together at the end of the rod. _‘There. At least I have a few decent outfits. I am definitely going to have to go shopping. Soon.’_

She quietly undressed; tossing the clothes she’d been wearing into the overflowing hamper then she slipped into her robe before snagging her bathroom kit and towel and heading for a nice hot shower. 

The shower room was deserted and for that Buffy was thankful. The last thing she needed right now was an awkward conversation with some vapid teenager whose only life crisis was which boy she could get to date her. Buffy was so far past the trivial concerns of a college-age female and besides, her brain was way too busy playing out possible scenarios of how she’d handle upcoming events to concentrate on anything else. Willow would do that stupid spell tomorrow night and after that the next big things were The Gentlemen and those three demons that were going to open the Hellmouth by jumping into it.

“Ok, I’ll just keep a close eye on Willow to make sure she doesn’t do the spell and then…” She trailed off, closing her eyes and letting the hot water cascade over her as she made plans and formulated ideas and tried, although not very hard, to push the remembered softness of Spike’s lips from her mind.

She lathered and soaped and rinsed on autopilot as her brain kept careening along, more and more events playing across her already stressed mind. One more rinse of her now squeaky clean hair and a new idea sprang forth. She shut off the water and grabbed her towel, tossing her shampoo and other things haphazardly into her bag in her haste to get back to her room. She didn’t even bother to dry herself off; she just scooped up her robe and bag then sprinted down the hall using her Slayer speed, wrapped only in her flapping towel. 

Her dorm room door had barely shut behind her when she snagged the first thick notebook she could find off her desk and flopped onto her bed, already scribbling furiously.

XX  
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XX

Spike spun and started tramping across the yard again, further mashing down the grass as he trailed a plume of smoke behind him. He’d followed Joyce up the stairs, carrying the box of blankets, and had helped her hang them over the windows as she’d chattered away about things he couldn’t for his unlife remember now, even if someone had a stake to his heart. He’d been pacing long enough to smoke half his pack of cigarettes and his mind was still stuck on one thing. His fingers drifted up and rubbed at the spot on his lip that he swore was still tingling. “She kissed me. The Slayer kissed me. What the hell was that?”

Spike had been unable to concentrate on Joyce because he’d been busy trying to stuff his poncy half back into his cage. As soon as Buffy’s lips had touched his, William had practically swooned and had started spouting poetry. He was overjoyed at the recent turn of events. He’d been nagging Spike for over a century, acting as a kind of surrogate soul as he’d chastised and cajoled and tried to give guidance on how Spike should behave. He’d failed, for the most part, because the demon was only too happy to run roughshod over William’s suggestions and had reveled in the bloodshed, but now… 

As far as William was concerned, the chip was the best thing that had ever happened to them because it reined the demon in and gave William more of a chance to make himself heard. And William was already head over heels in love with Buffy. He had been since their very first meeting. While Spike had been clapping and posturing in that noxious smelling alley, William had been composing stanza after stanza dedicated to the golden luster of her hair and the sparkling jewels that were her eyes.

Oh, William had loved Drusilla at the start, wholly and without reservation, but every betrayal, every dalliance thrown in his face, every time she’d called out a name other than his at a pinnacle moment, every time she’d dropped him like a hot rock because her Sire had shown his caveman face – reaffirming that Spike would always be second best – they’d all been freshly sharpened pick axes that had slowly but surely chipped away that love and over the decades had morphed it into something more akin to the warm affection for a cherished friend than the all-consuming love for a soul-mate… lack of souls aside, of course. 

William had still taken care of Dru, she was his Sire, after all, but something about the tiny blonde woman had called to him, filling his thoughts almost to the exclusion of all else. The demon had hung on as long as it was able, but without William’s heart bolstering the blind devotion of a Childe for its Sire, well, it was only a matter of time… and circumstances. Somehow, loving the Slayer had made William just that much stronger… strong enough to overpower the demon and make that truce, and as a game-changer, that truce was a doozy. Dru had seen it, but not soon enough to stop it, and that was also William’s doing. He’d been strong enough to keep the demon subdued and hide his intentions from his Sire’s uncannily accurate second sight. Her dollies or the stars or whatever had told her that Spike’s demon wasn’t running the show anymore, but they hadn’t shown her why until after they’d left Sunnydale. And she’d been not a bit surprised that it was all because of **her** , the Slayer. 

His musings were halted when Joyce stepped through the back door and walked out into the yard with determined steps. Spike waited until she was standing a few feet from him then flicked his cigarette away and asked quietly, “Did I wake you?”

She shook her head. “No, I haven’t been to sleep yet. Too much on my mind.”

Spike gave her a wry smile. “Yeah, know what you mean.”

Joyce crossed her arms over her chest and nodded at the house. “So, who was that woman in my house tonight? Because I know it wasn’t Buffy, not **MY** Buffy. She may look the same, but it wasn’t the same Buffy that I saw last week.”

Spike’s eyes widened and he backed up a step with a stammered, “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Joyce.” 

Joyce took a step forward. “And I’m sure that you do. I’m also sure that you’re going to tell me. Right now.” She motioned toward the back door. “I’m going to go in and make some more cocoa and you’re going to sit down and explain this. All of it.”

He tried to resist ‘the look’ that Joyce was leveling at him, he really did, but the properly raised gentleman that resided in his vampiric shell was powerless against it and he finally caved, heaving a giant sigh as he started plodding slowly toward the house in her wake. “Slayer’s gonna stake me for this, I know it. Balls.”

Joyce plopped a handful of marshmallows into the mug of steaming chocolate then handed it across the island. “Okay, Spike, let’s hear it. Who was that woman?”

Spike shifted uncomfortably on his stool and stared down at the mug cradled in his hands. “She’s Buffy, but you’re right, Joyce. She’s not **your** Buffy. She’s Buffy from the future.”

Joyce snorted and Spike looked up at her, sincerity written all over his face. Joyce clutched the edge of the counter and whispered, “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

He nodded. “Serious as I can be, Mum. From what I gather, she’s come back in time ‘bout four years to make some changes… fix things that went wrong in her time.”

Joyce blanched and stepped shakily around the island, sinking down wearily onto the stool next to Spike. “That’s why she was looking at me like that, isn’t it? Like she hadn’t seen me in a long time? I’m dead, aren’t I?”

Spike nodded and whispered, “Yeah. That’s one of the things she hopes to change.”

“How? What happened? How did I die?”

“I don’t know, Mum, she didn’t tell me, but if it’s somethin’ I can help prevent, I will.”

Joyce leveled another look at him and he squirmed as she asked, “Why?”

“Uh…”

“I saw how she was looking at you, too, Spike. She was looking at both of us like we were a sight for sore eyes, so I’m guessing that in her future you died, or dusted, or whatever it is you do, and… she loves you. She was looking at you like a woman in love.”

Spike nodded slowly. “I know. She told me that as well.”

“And?”

“And what?”

Joyce sat up straight and reached out to grip Spike’s forearm. “What are your intentions toward my daughter? How do you feel about her?”

Spike’s shoulders slumped and he dropped his gaze to the counter top. “Don’t rightly know, do I? That’s what I was tryin’ to work out in your garden. I know how I **should** feel ‘bout her. Should want nothin’ more than to kill her and move on, but…” He gripped his cup tightly and cast a sideways glance at Joyce. “I don’t. Don’t want to kill her; don’t even want to hurt her, not that I could with this chip up my brain, but… I want to help her, Joyce.”

“Ok, but do you want to help her because you have feelings for her or just because you don’t have a choice?”

“Oh, I have a choice. I can’t hunt and I can’t feed, but I can fight… well, demons anyway. I could get younger vampires to bring me dinner if I was so inclined, but I’m not, and let me tell you, realizing **that** sure spun my head around.” He sighed loudly and turned around on his stool, propping his elbows on the counter as he leaned back against it and ignoring the way the position pulled at his stitches. “I’m ‘bout to tell you somethin’ I’ve never admitted to another being, living or dead, and I need your promise that you’ll not tell anyone, especially Buffy.”

Joyce nodded and leaned against the island. “I promise, Spike. You have my word, your secret’s safe with me.”

He tipped his head back, staring at the ceiling as he spoke quietly in the cultured tones that he hadn’t really used since he’d been turned. “I’ve never been a very high maintenance vampire as far as the stuff of daily living goes. Give me some blood, fags, booze, a fairly comfortable place to sleep, and spot of violence every so often and I’m quite happy. I don’t need the fancy lodgings or the expensive clothes and trappings that the rest of my loony family always deemed necessary, but there is one thing I crave that they never have. Love. I want to be loved. **Need** to be loved.”

Joyce smiled. “I hate to break it to you, Spike, but that’s not really a secret. I figured it out that time you showed up drunk on my doorstep after Drusilla had broken up with you.”

Spike looked over at the smiling woman wearing an embarrassed grimace, “Sorry ‘bout that, Joyce,” then he sighed and turned his gaze back to the ceiling. “I spent a century wandering the earth with Dru, but she never loved me, I know that now, probably knew it all along. I spent all that time deceiving myself… lying to my heart, but even if Dru couldn’t love me, she knew who would. She’d seen that the Slayer… Buffy… would love me.”

“And do you believe that she does?”

He cast a quick sideways glance at her and nodded. “Yes. I saw it in her eyes at the diner, but I don’t love her… not yet. I think I could, given time, and even though I’m fairly certain that her Spike loved her…” He swallowed hard and looked back up at the ceiling. “It’s just that I’ve had my heart stomped on by the only two women I’ve ever given it to and I’m not in a terribly big hurry to have it ground into paste a third time.”

“I understand that, Spike, I do. I know how hard it is to let someone in after you’ve been hurt, but I need to know if…”

“I’ll try not to hurt her, Joyce, however it turns out, I promise you that, but I need time. I need to decide if what I’m feeling is real or if I’m being influenced by what Dru’s seen and what Buffy’s told me about the future. Plus, I’ve two factions in here that should be warring… and they’re not… and that’s…”

“Factions?”

Spike smirked. “Vampire here, Mum. We’re all textbook cases of multiple personality disorder. I’ve a demon and William rattlin’ ‘round inside my skull and I’ve spent over a century havin’ to suss out which side to come down on in any given circumstance. Sometimes I sided with the demon, sometimes with William, but in this case they agree, and that’s the first time that’s ever happened.” He sat up and scrubbed his hands over his face. “So you can see how that would mess a fella about. I’ve no precedent to fall back on or judge happenings against, so I’m rudderless and drifting.”

“What exactly do they both agree on?”

Spike smirked over at Joyce. “That your daughter is a remarkably strong, beautiful, intelligent woman and that they’re not worthy of her.”

Joyce chuckled. “Is there anything about Buffy that they don’t agree on?”

“Well, William’s been in love with her for a while now, but the demon’s not quite sure.”

Joyce threw him a knowing glance. “So you’re not as rudderless as you say. You’re siding with the demon right now because you’re afraid that Buffy is going to break your heart if you let yourself love her.” 

Spike stared at her for a few seconds then dropped his gaze with a tiny nod. “Yeah, I suppose I am.” He chuckled bitterly. “Right fearsome vampire I turned out to be. Quakin’ in my boots ‘cause of some tiny chit.”

Joyce lightly laid her hand on his forearm. “The size of the person doesn’t matter if they’re the one holding your heart. And there’s nothing wrong with being afraid, Spike, just don’t let it overwhelm you.”

Spike laid his hand over Joyce’s and whispered, “Thanks, Mum.”

Joyce squeezed his arm then let go. “You’re welcome and I know you’ll figure it out, and while you’re trying, you’ll stay here to help her, won’t you?”

Spike nodded and turned back around, taking a steadying breath before lifting his cooling mug of cocoa to take a long drink. “I will. Never figured myself for the white hat brigade, but I guess it’s somethin’ to do while I sort myself out. Demons are harder to kill than humans anyway, so fightin’ them’ll be a lot more fun, and I’ve always been up for a spot of fun.”


	7. Nowhere To Go

Do-Over  
Chapter Seven – Nowhere To Go

Buffy waited while Riley spread the blanket out on the grass then she sat down beside him. He started digging food out of the picnic basket and she took the sandwich he handed to her then sighed, “Riley… um… this is nice and everything, but...”

He looked over at her with a sad smile. “You’re about to tell me that you’ve changed your mind and that it’s not me, it’s you, right?”

She picked at the plastic her sandwich was wrapped in. “Sort of. See, a lot has changed since I saw you yesterday…”

“What could have changed so much in one day?”

She barked a harsh laugh. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

He shrugged as he unwrapped his sandwich. “Try me.”

“Well… I know a lot more about you today than I did yesterday.”

He smiled. “Like what? Couldn’t be too much, I’m a pretty uncomplicated guy.”

Buffy had been debating with herself about what, if anything, she should tell him. Deep down, she knew that he was a good guy, and he **had** helped in the original timeline, so… yeah. She was just going to lay it all out for him and see how he reacted. “Well, I know that you’re an Initiative soldier under the command of Maggie Walsh, and I know that you’re capturing demons and putting chips in their brains… among other things. Lowell house is where you all live and your labs are underneath it. You get to them by a secret elevator in your house that’s behind a mirror.”

Riley’s sandwich fell to the blanket in an untidy heap of oven roasted turkey, swiss, mustard, and bread. “What? How do you know all that?” He leaned close and hissed under his breath. “You’re a civilian! You’re not supposed to know any of that!” He stopped suddenly and his eyes widened. “Wait… You know about demons?”

Buffy smiled and produced her favorite stake, twirling it in her hand. “Yeah. I’ve been killing demons since I was fifteen.”

His astonished eyes fell on the stake then climbed back up. “With a pointy stick?”

Buffy laughed. “Well… yeah. A stake is the preferred method for dusting vampires, but I’ve killed other demons with stuff like axes, swords, and crossbows. I even killed this ugly blue demon with a rocket launcher once. That was fun.”

Riley’s eyes were trained on her stake again as he whispered, “Rocket launcher…” then they closed and he slumped. “Walsh is going to kill me. My career is over.” He looked back up at her as she tucked her stake away. “How did you find out?”

She shrugged. “Like I said, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you, I just wanted you to know that I know. And I also need you to know that I’m not going to let Maggie get away with what she’s doing.”

“Doing? What are you talking about?”

“Haven’t you ever wondered what she does with all the demons you capture?”

“We study them, try to find their weaknesses so we can control their numbers and protect humanity.”

“Maybe that’s what you were doing to start out, but the crazy little brain of old Mags has moved into much darker territory. Does Project 314 ring any bells? That door in the Initiative that only Walsh and Angleman have clearance to walk through?” His eyes widened and Buffy continued in a hard voice, “Those two took some poor guy and started replacing his parts with demon parts and computer parts, trying to build a super soldier. And it worked.”

“What? No! They wouldn’t! That’s unethical! And… wrong!”

“No shit it’s wrong, but they did it. Walsh named it Adam and it’s going to kill her if I don’t kill it first.”

XX  
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XX

“I’m coming along, Buffy, and that’s final.”

“But, Mom, it’s a Scooby meeting! You never go to Scooby meetings!”

“Well, I’m going to start. My daughter is the Slayer and I’ve spent quite enough time hiding my head in the sand and pretending that everything is normal.” She caught the look Buffy shot towards Spike and smiled at them both. “I don’t have to walk with you two, in fact, I have an errand to run, but I’ll meet you at Rupert’s in half an hour. All right?”

Buffy smiled. “Ok. We’ll see you there. Be careful, Mom.”

Joyce lifted a stake and a bottle of holy water out of her purse. “I will, Buffy. I’m not going to fall victim to a ‘BBQ fork accident’ on the way to Rupert’s.” She stashed her weapons and started for the door then turned and gave Buffy a warning look. “Don’t be too hard on him, Buffy, it wasn’t his fault. I’ll see you in thirty minutes.”

Buffy looked at her mother in confusion as she pulled the door shut behind her then she turned to look at Spike, only to find him with a hand on the back of his neck as he nervously shuffled his feet. Her eyes narrowed. “What did you do?”

More shuffling. “Didn’t plan on it, luv. Tried to resist, but…” He looked up wearing a sheepish smile. “She gave me ‘the look,’ Buffy. The ‘Mum’ look, and there was cocoa, and… I had to tell her.”

“So she knows I’m future Buffy?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

Buffy smiled and reached out to squeeze his arm. “It’s ok, Spike. I know you tried, but nobody can withstand ‘the look.’ Not even a big, bad vampire. Mom would’ve made a good Slayer.”

Spike smiled in relief and nodded. “That she would, pet.”

“So how’d she take it? Did she wig when you told her I was from the future?”

“No… well, maybe a bit at first, but she’s a Summers. She bucked right up and glommed onto your new motto… if you can’t beat ‘em…”

“Join ‘em. So that’s why she’s going to the meeting.”

“Yeah.”

Buffy smiled and held out a rumpled brown paper bag. “Here. This is your first blood delivery. I picked it up because I was on my way here anyway, and Willy will start regular deliveries every other day, if that’s all right.”

Spike took the bag and opened it, counting the blood packets and mentally calculating how long they’d last. “If all the deliveries are like this, that’ll be just fine, Buffy. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Go stash those in the fridge and have a quick snack and then we’ve got to go.”

He threw her a mock salute and clicked the heels of his boots together. “Yes, ma’am. Be right back.”

She giggled, “Dork,” as he turned and headed for the kitchen. When the door swung shut behind him and she could hear him moving around as he worked to heat up his blood, she crept quietly over to where his duster was hanging and slipped an envelope into one of the deep inside pockets.

XX  
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XX

The front door of Rupert’s apartment opened and Buffy stepped through, followed by Joyce and Spike. He closed the door then helped the women out of their jackets, hanging them up before he slipped out of his duster. When he turned to face the room after hanging his coat, he was met with two dumbfounded stares.

Xander finally broke the tense silence as he bolted to his feet and pointed an accusing finger at Spike. “What is the Bleached Menace doing all unchained? Shouldn’t he be all bondage boy in the bathroom singing about commando information for his supper?”

Joyce opened her mouth, an angry retort poised on her tongue, but before she could say anything, Buffy stepped forward. “No, he shouldn’t. And the ‘commando information’ is why we’re here. Sit down, Xander. We’ll wait for Giles and then I’ll explain everything.”

“But… he should be chained! He’s a vampire, Buffy! An evil, murdering vampire!”

Buffy pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed heavily before looking up at the fuming face of her friend. “No shit. Really? Spike’s a vampire? You know, his fangs and lumpies kinda gave that away. Not to mention the whole blood drinking thing.” She took a menacing step toward Xander, hiding her smile when he backed up an equal distance. She wasn’t going to let him get away with his crap this time around. She’d put up with his second guessing her every decision and his hypocritical blind hatred of all things demon for years. This time she was going to set him straight. Let him know that **she** was in charge of her life, not him. “Just how stupid do you think I am, Xander? Or did you just forget **who** I am?”

He sputtered as he backed up another step, “What?”

“I’m the Slayer. THE Slayer. Do you get that?” He nodded. “Do you think I don’t know my job?” He shook his head. “Then why are you always telling me what to do?”

A quailing Xander suddenly realized that those bones running up the middle of his back were his spine and he stepped toward her. “I don’t **tell** you what to do! I help you! Because I’m your friend!”

Buffy smiled. “Yes, you are. And that’s why I’ve lived as long as I have, because of my friends. The Master killed me, but you saved me, Xander, and I’ll be forever grateful for that, but you do try to control my life.” She sent a sharp glance at Willow who wilted slightly even as she smiled nervously. “You both do. And I’m here to tell you now that it’s going to stop. Besides the fact that I’m the Slayer, I’m also an adult, which means I get to make my own decisions. And you guys just have to deal, even if you don’t think they’re right.”

Xander sneered at the vampire that was standing silently behind Joyce. “So we just have to deal with you letting Evil Dead there run loose after he tried to kill you?” He waved his arm around the room. “After he tried to kill us all?”

Spike raised his hand and pointed at Joyce. “I’ve never tried to kill the Slayer’s Mum.”

Xander glared at him. “Shut it, Bleachy.” Then his glare focused on Buffy. “Remember the Judge? Remember how he kidnapped me and Willow? Cordy almost died because of him! And he just sat there and watched while Angelus tortured Giles! Yeah, your ‘decision’ to not dust **that** bastard when you had the chance was so deal-worthy that it ended up killing Miss Calendar! So no… I’m not going to just stand here and ‘deal’ while you ‘decide’ stuff that puts us all in danger! I don’t know what it is about Aurelian vampires that makes you forget how dangerous they are, but I’m not going to stand by and wait for that one to get his fangs fixed so he can start chowing down!” His hand crept to the waistband of his jeans and came up full of stake. 

Willow screamed as he darted around Buffy and lunged forward, one arm out to push Joyce aside while the other raised the stake above his head. He brought it down sharply, aiming for Spike’s chest, then shouted in surprise when a blur of blonde shoved the vampire out of the way and it buried itself in Buffy’s instead. “Buffy! No!”

She tumbled to the floor, Xander’s forward momentum pushing him down on top of her and driving the stake further into her body. Her screams of pain reverberated off the walls of the apartment as Spike lifted Xander and tossed him across the room, his head slamming into the wall with a sickening crunch. Spike fell to his knees, his demon emerging as his own screams of pain mingled with Buffy’s.

Willow stared at Buffy as Joyce dropped down beside her then she stood from the couch and made her way over to Xander. The air she was breathing felt as thick as syrup as she knelt down next to him, but it was the blank look in his eyes that locked her throat up tighter than a drum. She wanted to scream, cry, tell him to stop playing around and get up, but her voice had completely deserted her and all she could do was stare at his unblinking eyes.

Joyce was on her knees, cradling Buffy in her arms as she looked around wildly. “Someone call an ambulance!”

Buffy shook her head slightly and coughed out, “No… Mom… no.” She tried to raise her arm so she could touch her Mom’s face as she looked down at her, but it wouldn’t cooperate. “Mom, I love you. Please… you have to do something for me… when you start getting headaches, don’t wait. Go to the doctor right away, okay? Will you do that?”

Joyce sobbed, “What? No! You’re not dying!”

“Yes, I am, Mom. But it’s ok. Please, promise me you’ll go?” 

Joyce clutched her tighter and nodded, tears streaming down her face. “I…I will. I’ll go. I love you, Buffy.”

“I love you, too, Mom, please remember that.” She turned her head slightly, “Spike?”

He shuffled closer, still in game face and holding his head as blood dripped from his nose and ears. “I told you I wasn’t gonna hide behind you and now look what you’ve done! Daft bint! That tosser would’ve never touched me!”

She smiled. “I know. I’m sorry. Come closer.” He moved closer and leaned down to hear her weak whisper. “I love you, Spike, and you’ve got to leave Sunnydale. They’ll kill you if you don’t. Please. Go. Live. For me.”

All Spike could do was nod as the light faded from her eyes and his enhanced hearing told him that her heart had stopped. He turned pain-filled golden eyes on Joyce and she nodded toward the door. “Go, Spike, before Rupert gets back. I’ll tell him…” She broke down and clutched Buffy tighter as she whispered through her sobs, “Keep in touch, but go. Now.”

Spike lurched to his feet and stumbled toward the coat rack, snagging his duster just as Rupert opened the door and stepped through. He barreled past the stunned Watcher and staggered up the steps to the street then just stood there. He had nowhere to go.


	8. A Place To Call Home

Do-Over  
Chapter Eight – A Place To Call Home

Riley made his way down the street toward the address Buffy had given him. Her Watcher’s apartment. She had a Watcher. She was a Slayer. He sighed loudly for the umpteenth time that day. She could have been the one. The girl he’d marry and spend the rest of his life with, but no… not now. She was a freak… just like all those demons down in the labs. She had freaky strength and freaky speed and she’d laid him out in no time flat when he’d asked her to go into the gym to prove to him what she was. He rubbed the sore spot in the middle of his chest where she’d punched him. She said she hadn’t used her full strength, but he’d still flown twenty feet and had landed in a crumpled heap at the edge of the mats, trying to breathe around the searing pain in his chest.

While he’d been trying to get his breath back, Buffy had asked him to check into Project 314 on his own, and if he decided that it was something he wanted to help stop, to come to a Scooby meeting, whatever the hell that was. And if not… well, she was still going to stop it, she’d just do it without his help.

After all the shocks he’d endured that day, the biggest one had been when he’d seen the monstrosity on that exam table. Pieces of demon and human and technology all sewn together like the patchwork quilts his grandmother used to make. He’d almost vomited his not really eaten picnic lunch all over its mangled face before he’d suddenly ripped out the glowing cylinder that had been installed to act as its heart. Then he’d stood there, holding the pulsing object in his hand as he’d marveled at his amazing act of complete stupidity. If his career hadn’t been over before, it sure as hell was then. 

His mind racing, he’d stuffed the slimy cylinder into his pocket then had turned toward the bank of computers in the far corner. Quickly prying the covers off, he’d disconnected all the hard drives, stuffing them into his multitude of pockets before smashing all the equipment in the lab. And as the closing phrase on his impulsive letter of resignation, he’d doused the body on the table with alcohol, flicking a lit match at it as he stepped through the door, leaving his hard earned career burning merrily behind him.

He’d slipped Walsh’s keycard back into her lab coat just before she’d come into her office then had lied about eating bad cafeteria food to get out of that night’s patrol. Apparently the distinctly green hue of his face as he’d forced himself to look at the insanely depraved woman he’d thought of as his mentor… almost as his mother… had convinced her and she’d excused him. He hadn’t said goodbye; hadn’t wanted to tip her off in any way so he’d have time to get packed before the charred remains of her pet project were found. He’d give the evidence he’d stolen to Buffy… hopefully she had some way to make sure something like this never happened again… and then he was going to disappear. He’d done his part for the safety of humanity, completely trashing his career and everything he’d worked for his whole life in the process, and he just couldn’t do any more.

He shifted his heavy duffel bag as he neared the small complex of apartments, his eye catching on the black clad figure of a man sporting a shock of white hair at the top of the stairs he was supposed to take to get to the meeting with Buffy. He peered at the man, something about him seeming very familiar as he came to a dead stop in the middle of the sidewalk. It couldn’t be. The man turned around and Riley gasped as the bloodied demon face of Hostile Seventeen came into full view, the moonlight glinting off its fangs.

The hostile took a step forward and Riley yelled as he scrambled for his tazer, “Stop! Don’t move, Hostile! Stay where you are!” He raised the weapon and fired, hitting nothing but empty air as the hostile sped by him in a blur of black leather. Riley spun, slamming a fresh cartridge into his tazer, but the hostile was gone, melted into the shadows. 

“Shit!” Riley dropped his duffle, intending to give chase, but was brought up short by a piercing scream. He spun around again and pounded down the stairs into the small courtyard, searching for the source of the screaming. Imagine his complete and utter lack of surprise when he saw that the numbers beside the door the noise was pouring through matched the ones on the slip of paper Buffy had given him.

XX  
XXXX  
XX

Spike sprinted along the labyrinth of Sunnydale’s alleys, keeping to the shadows as much as he could while maintaining his speed. He’d heard the witch’s scream and had looked back long enough to see that the soldier wasn’t chasing him, but he’d kept running anyway. He wanted to get as much distance as he could before soldier boy called in his position and sicced half the sodding military on him. The only problem with that plan was that he had no idea where to go.

A lancing bolt of pain in his stomach region reminded him of another snag. He was still grievously injured and shouldn’t be running flat out like this, even if he had stopped breathing to try to keep the cracked open edges of his sternum from grating together. He stumbled to a stop and leaned against the nearest building as he lifted his shirt. Bleeding fabulous. He’d managed to tear pretty much all of his stitches and was bleeding profusely. Apparently, tossing a fat git across the room and then running half way across town weren’t recommended activities for someone who’d recently been autopsied. Without anesthesia. At least they hadn’t removed **all** his organs, but it felt like something they’d left behind had ruptured inside him and he slid down the wall, clutching the torn open incision in his stomach as his borrowed blood poured through his fingers.

XX  
XXXX  
XX

Riley burst through the door, tazer held high, and almost crashed into the back of a tweed-wearing older man that was standing just inside. He veered at the last second and skidded to a halt next to him, quickly surveying the room for threats, even though he was pretty sure that the only threat had been the hostile he’d let get away.

The screaming was coming from a red headed woman that was kneeling with her back to him next to a brunette man. A very dead brunette man, if the unnatural bend in his neck was anything to go by. A blonde woman at his feet was clutching something to her chest and sobbing. The something turned out to be Buffy, her shirt soaked in blood from the stake that had been driven into her chest. 

Buffy’s empty eyes stared up at him, accusingly, he thought, and it was too much… all of it was just too much and he collapsed, falling to his knees beside the woman holding Buffy then pitching forward to land on his face in the congealing puddle of her blood.

XX  
XXXX  
XX

Spike staggered to his feet and stood leaning against the wall until the wave of dizziness had passed then he started stumbling slowly toward the street. He’d actually managed to collapse in an alley not too far from Buffy’s house where several bags of human blood waited for him. If he could just get there without being discovered he’d be all right, but with the way he smelled right now, covered in blood that was practically screaming all-you-can-eat-buffet, coupled with the fact that he was far too weak to fight anything off that might come looking for a snack… well… he wasn’t all that optimistic about his chances of coming out the other side of this night still undead.

He peeked around the corner of the building, half expecting the street to be full of commandos with tazers armed and ready, but it was deserted and he breathed a sigh of relief. Steeling himself to leave the support of the building he was leaning on, he straightened up and started weaving down the sidewalk, leaving a trail of blood spatters behind him. 

He staggered up Buffy’s front walk and almost fell up the stairs, but managed to keep from face planting on the welcome mat only by sheer force of will as he trip-stumbled across the porch, slamming into the door with a pained grunt. Praying to whatever entity looked after vampires, if there even was one, he tried the doorknob, almost weeping in relief when it turned easily under his hand. His weight on the door caused it to slam open and he fell forward, landing half in and half out of the house. 

He dragged himself fully across the threshold then weakly pushed the door closed, lying on the entry way floor for long minutes as he tried to gather the tatters of his strength. He lifted a head that seemed to weigh a ton and turned his face toward the kitchen. It was so far away. Shrugging out of his duster so he’d have less weight to move, he started pulling himself along the floor, leaving a wide swath of blood behind him that was furrowed by the toes of his boots. 

After what seemed like an eternity, he found himself in front of the refrigerator. He pulled the door open and stretched as far as he could, finally hooking the paper bag from Willy’s off the top shelf. It plummeted to the floor, spilling blood packets hither and yon, and Spike snagged the closest one, slicing his fangs through the tough plastic. The cold blood flowed sluggishly over his tongue and down his throat, but as far as he was concerned, it was ambrosia, better than the finest wine.

He felt marginally better when he tossed the last empty blood packet aside, but he still had a long way to go before he’d be fit enough to do anything but crawl into a dark hole to heal. Buffy’s basement would fit that bill quite nicely, so he gritted his teeth and dragged his ravaged body across the floor toward the basement door. 

The stairs were a bitch to get down, but he managed it without injuring himself too much further. He dragged himself across the cold concrete and flopped onto an old camp mattress in the far back corner beside the washer. He settled himself into the most comfortable position he could and tried to relax, but now that he was still and had no immediate goals to work toward, his brain refused to shut down, replaying the incident at the Watcher’s over and over. 

After he’d relived the light fading from Buffy’s eyes for the tenth time, Spike tried to steer his mind to another topic. Any other topic. Ah… the blasted chip in his head. Yeah, that would do. He’d only set it off a handful of times since he’d escaped the Initiative and tonight’s little bout of electroshock therapy had been the worst by a country mile. Yeah, it had hurt when he’d tried to bite the little ginger witch, but that had been a light buzz compared to when he’d tossed that murdering git into the wall. He closed his eyes as realization hit. The whelp was dead by his hand. That was the only thing that would explain the continued pounding inside his skull, like a bass drum player on crack. Oh, he’d had some residual pain after the dorm room incident, but that had been mostly the result of being clocked in the head with a lamp, not from the firing of the chip.

And that was why Buffy had told him to leave, to get out of Sunnydale. She must have seen what he’d done to the boy and didn’t want him around her Mum anymore, and Joyce had agreed, so there went his half-formed plan to hang around Sunnydale and keep watch on Joyce to try to prevent her death. _‘And isn’t that the story of my bleedin’ unlife? Finally find a place where I might fit, a place I could come to call home, and I manage to balls it up ‘fore it’s even been a full day.’_

Spike rolled onto his side, heedless of his injuries as he curled into a pitiful ball of misery and wept. He wept for Buffy, he wept for Joyce, and he wept for himself, finally falling into unconsciousness just as the first rays of the sun peeked over the horizon.


	9. Anything’s Possible

Do-Over  
Chapter Nine – Anything’s Possible

She smelled him before she heard him and groaned, “Whistler?”

“Yeah.” He stopped next to her comfy chaise lounge and sighed, “That didn’t last very long.”

She sat up and felt her chest where the stake had been driven into her. It was gone, of course, and she was whole… again. “So how bad did I screw up? Are they going to send me back or is it game over?”

“Well, Spike just drastically changed the timeline by killing Xander, so…”

“Xander’s dead!?”

“Yeah. His neck snapped when Spike threw him into that wall.”

“That idiot! God! I am so completely tired of him screwing with my freaking life!”

“Spike?”

“No! Xander! If he hadn’t tried to stake Spike, then he wouldn’t be dead now! Stupid, interfering dumbass!”

“Uh… ok.”

Buffy lurched to her feet and started pacing angrily around the chaise, her robe flaring out wildly every time she turned a corner. “I had a chance to fix things! But no! Xander had to jump right into the middle without thinking and screw it all up! Again! God, it’s like a compulsion with him! The love spell on Cordelia, summoning Sweet and getting all those people killed, leaving Anya at the altar, lying to me about Angel’s soul… it just never ends! I wish he could see all the shit he’s done without thinking first and how it’s screwed up the lives of everyone around him!”

“I’m not a vengeance demon, but…” Whistler smirked and snapped his fingers. “Wish granted.”

Xander suddenly appeared on the chaise in his own white, flowing robe; eyes wide and frightened as he scrambled to his feet with a sputtered, “Wha? … How? … Where?” He gripped the back of the chaise tightly and yelled, “What the hell is going on? Where am I?”

Buffy threw him a venomous glare. “We’re both dead, Xander. You killed me and Spike killed you. Thanks a lot.”

Xander’s head whipped around, his eyes skating around the fuzzy edges of the blindingly white space then screeching to a halt on Whistler. “I’m dead? Is this heaven? Are you an angel? Where’s your wings?”

Buffy snorted. “He’s not an angel and this isn’t heaven. That’s Whistler and this is the PTB’s waiting room. I was here just a little while ago and thanks to you, I’m here again. They gave me a chance to go back and fix everything that went wrong in the future, but you just had to screw that up for me, didn’t you? You couldn’t just listen to me, could you? No. You did what you always do, no matter who it hurts.”

“Future? You’re from the future?”

“Yeah. About four years. They let me go back and I could’ve changed a lot of bad stuff… really bad stuff… but nope… here comes Xander to save the day, and now we’re both dead.”

“Well, how was I supposed to know!?”

“If you had stopped to listen to me for five freaking minutes, you would have!”

Whistler spoke quietly, “Do you want to see the future, Xander? See the things she was trying to change?” 

Xander’s gaze whipped to the demon again then he swallowed hard and nodded. “Yeah, I guess.”

Whistler pointed to something over his shoulder. “Then turn around and see.”

Xander spun then froze as a swirling portal opened directly in front of him. The light washed over his still form as events from the original timeline played across it like a movie in fast forward. Snippets of sound came through when the playback slowed at various intervals, causing Xander to twitch and his face to heat in shame at some of the more vitriolic things he’d said and done.

Buffy cringed when she saw her jump from the tower then she stepped forward as she intently watched the aftermath of her death. She’d been told some of what everyone had gone through, but seeing it for herself, seeing and hearing everyone’s pain and despair… She thumped down onto the chaise and buried her face in her hands, letting the tears fall.

Xander kept watching and listening, his trembling hands clenching into fists as the future played out. A kind of strangled moan issued from his throat when Anya was felled by the Bringer’s sword and he was openly sobbing when Spike and Buffy’s interlocked hands burned in the Hellmouth, then he wailed and crumpled into a heap when Buffy sliced her arm in the bathtub, ending the playback. “Oh God… I didn’t… how could I… ”

Buffy knelt down next to him and wrapped her arm over his shoulders. “Do you understand now? Do you see what I was trying to do? I could have saved them, Xan. Anya, and Tara, and Mom. All the Potentials. Spike. Willow. Even me.”

He looked up at her and swiped at the tears on his face with the sleeve of his robe. “I’m sorry, Buffy. God, I’m so sorry. I messed it all up. You love him… I love her… and they’re both gone…”

Whistler cleared his throat. “But it can be fixed. The Powers will let me send you both back to try again, but this will be the last time. If either one of you dies again, that’s it, you stay dead.”

They both looked up at him with tear stained faces and nodded, speaking in stereo, “Do it.” Whistler snapped his fingers.

Buffy blinked… and could see nothing. Nothing at all. She was surrounded by pitch blackness and she panicked, a scream locked in her throat as she scraped her fingernails against the slick plastic that enveloped her. _‘God! Not again! I’m buried! God! Help me!’_

Bright light suddenly blinded her and she froze, only hearing Xander’s voice when he grasped her head in his hands and leaned over her, blocking out the light. “Buffy! It’s ok! You’re ok!”

She grasped his wrists in a white knuckle grip as she blinked and breathed, trying to calm her racing heart. “Xander?” 

He slid his arm under her shoulders and helped her sit up. “Yeah. I’m here.”

She looked around the room, confused by all the unconscious people that surrounded them. Giles was slumped on the couch with her mom next to him, Willow had apparently slid out of the chair at the end, and Riley was face down just inside the front door. There were also two strangers laid out on the floor next to the two body bags… 

Her eyes widened and her breathing became ragged as Xander gripped her arms, steadying her. “Yeah, they’d bagged us, Buff. Yours was already zipped up, that’s why it was dark when you came back.” He pulled her close, wrapping his arms loosely around her, trying to give comfort without making her feel trapped. “It reminded you of when we brought you back, didn’t it? When you had to dig your way out of your coffin?”

She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed then nodded against his chest, the fear finally subsiding a little as the solidness of him started to sift into her brain. “Yeah. Yeah, it did.” She held on, rubbing her cheek against the soft flannel shirt he was wearing until the fear and panic had been pushed to the back of her mind then she pulled back and looked around the room again. “Why is everybody unconscious?”

Xander snorted then started laughing. “That’s my fault, I think. The medical guys there were getting me straightened out in my bag when I came back, and when I opened my eyes and sat up… well…” 

He cracked his neck then scooted back to lean against the wall, startling violently when Whistler suddenly popped into existence next to Riley. “Actually, that was me… well mostly. I put everybody to sleep except for this guy.” He pointed down at Riley. “He was already unconscious.”

Buffy glanced at Riley then looked up at Whistler. “Why?”

Whistler smirked. “He’s a big baby that can’t handle the sight of blood?”

She shook her head. “No, not Riley, I mean why’d you put everybody to sleep?”

“Oh. Figured it would be easier. It’s not an everyday thing to have two obviously dead people suddenly come back to life, even in Sunnydale… well, at least when vampire fangs weren’t involved. Those two there…” He pointed to the EMTs. “…I’ll move to their ambulance and let them wake up naturally. I’ll fix it so they think they just took a snooze and they won’t remember any of this. The rest of them…” He waved his hand around the room. “…should pretty much be ok with it, considering their history with all things Hellmouth.”

Buffy climbed out of her body bag and grimaced as her blood soaked shirt squelched against her skin. “You couldn’t fix my clothes when you fixed the gaping hole in my chest?”

Xander chuckled quietly as he climbed out of his own bag. “Now, Buffster, be nice to the little guy. He did make us both alive again.” 

She blushed slightly and smiled at Whistler, “Oh… yeah. Thanks for that.” 

“No problem. Now, if you two don’t mind, I’ve got places to be and things to do. Don’t screw it up this time. Hope I don’t see you for a while.” He snapped his fingers and disappeared along with the two EMTs, their equipment, and the body bags. 

Buffy pinched her shirt between her finger and thumb and pulled it away from her body. “I need a shower. Like now. This is so gross.” She started for the bathroom. “Does Giles still keep my extra clothes in the linen closet?”

Xander called after her as she stepped into the hallway. “Yeah, bottom shelf. What do you want me to do with these guys?”

Buffy poked her head out of the bathroom. “Just keep an eye on them until they wake up, I guess. Once I’m done showering, I’m gonna go find Spike.”

“You really love him?”

Buffy stepped fully into the living room. “Yeah, Xander, I do, and I have for a long time. You saw how he changed in my future, didn’t you? He saved the world.”

Xander shrugged. “Yeah, I saw, but that’s not this Spike. This one doesn’t have his soul, so how do you know he’ll turn out the same?”

“I don’t, but I’ve got to give him the chance. I know he has it in him, soul or no soul; we just have to help him along. Get his feet set on the right path and encourage him this time instead of beating him down every chance we get. You did notice how much he’d changed even **before** he got the soul, didn’t you?” Xander nodded and she stepped up in front of him and pulled him into a hug, further bloodying his already bloody shirt before she stepped back and looked him square in the eye. “I love you, Xander, but I won’t let you pull the shit you did last time. You saw what happened, how much pain everybody was in. I’m not saying that all of it was your fault, everybody had a hand it the badness at some point, but I’m not letting that happen this time, and to change things I need you to pull your head out and grow up. If you can’t do that then there’s the door and it’s been nice knowing you. And thanks again for saving my life that time.”

Xander swallowed hard and looked down at his shoes then dragged his gaze back up to her eyes, a defiant look on his face. “I don’t like the guy, Buffy, not at all…” Buffy started to speak and Xander held up his hand. “Right now, anyway. But I’m gonna give him a chance, ok? I’m not gonna invite him over for beers or anything, but I’ll try not to be such a dick to him. Will that be enough?”

“Yes, and thank you. But what if this Spike decides that he loves me like I love him and I… you know.”

Xander blanched then gagged just a little. “Get groiny with Dead Boy Junior?” Buffy nodded and Xander sighed, “I’ll deal, Buff, but I’m not gonna lie to you… I’ll probably never be ok with you macking on the undead, but if dealing with it means that we’ll still be friends, then I’ll deal.”

Buffy squeezed him in a hug again. “Thanks, Xander. And you never know; you and Spike could turn out to be best buds. He quoted Star Trek at me yesterday, so you two have something in common.” 

Xander shuddered then laughed quietly. “I doubt we’ll ever be friends, but like you said… you never know… and we do live on a Hellmouth, so I guess anything’s possible.” Buffy started for the bathroom again and smiled at Xander’s muttered, “Spike watches Star Trek?”


	10. Board the Train

Do-Over  
Chapter Ten – Board the Train

“Can’t we talk about this later? I need to go find Spike. He thinks I’m dead!”

Giles pushed the door closed as he shook his head. “No, Buffy, we cannot. Aside from the fact that he **killed** Xander…”

Buffy pointed to the brunette who was sprawled on the couch eating a day old stale donut. “Xander’s fine! Look at him! I’m pretty sure dead people don’t eat donuts… uh… unless they’re Spike.” 

Xander smiled as he waved the pastry in question. “Just keep the chocolatey goodness coming and I’m a happy camper, G-man, even if the chocolately goodness is kind of crunchy.”

Giles turned to face him, scowling at the nickname. “I’ll ask you **again** not to call me that, and you’re not the least bit upset that Spike attacked you? That he killed you without a second thought?”

Xander shook his head. “Nah. He was just defending Buffy, I get that, and besides…” He stretched his arms out to the side then flexed his biceps. “Not dead anymore. Can’t really be pissed at the guy for killing me when it didn’t stick.”

Willow’s eyes were taking up almost half her face as she stared at her formerly dead and now very much alive best friend. She’d yet to utter a single syllable aside from the terrified scream that had issued from her throat when she’d woken and had laid eyes on Xander… walking and talking Xander… not dead on the floor in a broken heap Xander. Her head swiveled to her other not dead friend as she fidgeted by the front door and the dam finally broke. “You were dead! Both of you! Dead over there…” She pointed to the blood puddle on the floor that Riley had finally been moved out of. “And dead over there!” Her finger shakily moved to point at the Xander’s head shaped dent in the wall. “You were dead! And now you’re not! How? How does that happen?”

Buffy and Xander both shrugged and said in stereo again, “Whistler.”

Xander smirked and shouted, “Jinx! You owe me a Coke!” 

Buffy laughed. “Ok. But you owe me one from earlier.”

“I do not! You didn’t say jinx!”

“But I was thinking it.”

“Doesn’t count! You have to say it!” He waved his finger at her. “So no Cokes for you, missy. Just Cokes for me.”

Willow shouted, “Hey! What’s with the Cokes? There will be no Cokes for anybody until you explain what the hell happened here!”

Buffy and Xander both cringed guiltily and Buffy said, “Sorry, Wils. Um… we were dead and Whistler made us not dead, which I thought was really nice.”

Xander nodded. “Yeah. For a stinky little demon with bad clothes, he’s kind of a nice guy.”

Giles pinched the bridge of his nose and sat down on the coffee table. “I truly do not understand the cavalier attitude you both possess about being recently murdered.” He turned pleading eyes on Joyce. “Perhaps you could talk some sense into them?”

Joyce shook her head. “Sounds like they’re plenty sensible about it to me, and the last thing we need is for them to get maudlin about it. If I can handle Buffy’s Slayerness and all that entails, then you should surely be able to. You’re her Watcher for God’s sake, Rupert. Get a grip.” 

Willow was throwing resolve faces all over the place as she angrily spat, “Giles can grip later. I need to know what happened! Right! Now!”

Xander sighed, “I’ll tell you, as much as I know about it anyway, but the Buffster has something important she needs to do right now, so…”

Joyce looked up at Buffy. “Go, dear. Find him. Call here when you do.”

Buffy shot Xander and her mother a grateful look then pulled the door open, slipping out into the fading night before Giles even had the chance to contemplate getting up off the table to stop her.

As the door thumped shut behind her, Riley groaned quietly and started to stir, only to slump back to the floor from a well-placed smack to the back of his head. All eyes in the room fell on Xander as he calmly re-shelved the heavy tome he’d hit Riley with. He smiled as he turned from the bookshelf. “Figured it would be easier to keep him out of it until Buffy can deal with him, ‘cause the crazy bitch he works for? Bad news of the baddest kind with the attempted Buffy killage and the psycho monster building and everything.” Dumfounded stares followed him as he sat back down on the couch and picked up his donut. “Now… how about I tell you a story? It begins with a Slayer in love…”

XX  
XXXX  
XX

She stood indecisively in the middle of the sidewalk at the top of the steps. “Ok, Buffy, think. Where would he go? He’s obviously not at the apartment I just left, and he doesn’t know where his crypt is yet… Harmony, maybe? No. She kicked him out… He couldn’t have left town yet, could he? He’d need transportation… where does he keep that ugly black car? Shit!”

She spied a large black lump further down the sidewalk and moved warily toward it, breathing out a sigh of relief when it turned out to be an abandoned duffel bag. She quickly dug through it then carried it back toward the steps, tossing it down into the courtyard. “Wonder why Riley’s carrying around all his stuff?” She shrugged then turned away, walking quickly. “And that’s not important right now. I’ll check my house first, see if he’s been there, and if not… I have no idea.”

She was about six blocks away from her house when she spotted it. Blood. Dried spots of blood on the sidewalk. She walked faster, a fire of trepidation flaring in her belly when she realized that the blood was leading her right to her house. She followed it up her front walk and gasped at the large swath on the front door. It wasn’t completely dry yet. 

She turned the blood stained door knob and pushed the door open, her hand flying to her mouth as her eyes fell on the puddle of smeared blood next to Spike’s crumpled duster. “What the hell happened to you, Spike?” The trail led to the kitchen and paused in a large puddle of blood and empty blood bags in front of the still open fridge then continued to the basement door. Buffy absently closed the fridge door, plunging the room into darkness. She flicked on the kitchen light then made a beeline for the basement door, slipping slightly in the sticky blood that coated the floor. 

She crept silently down the stairs, following the blood, and cried out when she spied the blood-soaked vampire curled up on her old camp mattress. Even though he was dressed all in black, she could tell he was covered in blood from his collar bones to his toes. The weak light from the dangling bulb glinted off the wetness of the denim stretched tightly across his thighs, and the hem of his t-shirt was soaking in the blood that had puddled on the mattress by his stomach. 

She knelt next to the mattress and gently rolled the unconscious vampire onto his back then tugged his shirt up to bunch under his armpits. The torn open gash in his stomach made her gag. She could clearly see his internal organs – they weren’t hard to miss what with the sticking out of him and all – but what made her almost lose what little she had in her stomach was the realization of what that Y-shaped incision in his torso meant. He’d been cut completely open. From stem to stern. “Oh God, Spike! What did that bitch do to you?”

She leaned forward and slid her arms underneath him, one under his back and the other under his knees, then pulled his lax form close to her body. Getting to her feet from her kneeling position, even with Spike’s added 160 pounds or so, wasn’t even hard… the sudden and overwhelming rage coursing through her fueling her strength. She easily carried him up the stairs and through the kitchen and dining room then up to the second floor, depositing him gently on his bed. “I’m going to get you cleaned up and put back together and then I’ve got an errand to run. That bitch and all her little minions are going down.”

XX  
XXXX  
XX

He was warm and comfortable… except for that nagging itch. He reached up to scratch at the spot on his belly that had been trying to drag him from slumber for the past few minutes. “What the?” He lifted his head, squinting even in the dim light of the room, and looked at his stomach. His eyes widened as they traveled up his torso from where his navel should be, the navel he couldn’t see because it was covered by a bandage. He started picking at the tape securing the gauze to his skin until he’d loosened it enough to peel back the bottom edge. He saw a row of somewhat neat stitches marching along his stomach to disappear under the rest of the gauze. “Who?”

“Me.” He started and looked up to see Buffy standing next to the bed holding a tray with four mugs perched on it. “I sewed you back up. Didn’t do a very good job, but with your vamp healing, you won’t scar… I don’t think… but at least your insides are back on the inside where they’re supposed to be, the ones you had left, anyway.” She smiled brightly. “Hi.”

Spike lifted himself carefully, sliding back to lean against the headboard as she stepped closer. He leaned slightly away from her and whispered, “Buffy?”

“Yep.” She sat down on the edge of the bed and set the tray next to his knee then picked up a mug and lifted his left hand to wrap around it. “Dinner time.” She motioned toward the soup spoon resting on the tray in between the mugs. “Glad we don’t need that anymore. It’s not very fun trying to feed someone who’s unconscious. You dribbled a lot.”

He glanced at the spoon then back up at her face. “But you were…”

“Dead. Yeah.”

“And…”

“Now I’m not.”

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the headboard. “Whistler?”

“Yeah.”

He turned his head toward the window, not able to look at her as he asked, “So… why’d you fix me up then? I mean, why go to all the trouble just to stake me for killin’ the boy?”

“Xander’s fine, Spike.”

Spike’s head whipped around and he gaped at her. “What?”

“Xander. He’s fine. He’s at work.”

“He’s… How?”

“Whistler.”

“So… I did…”

“Yeah. You killed him.”

“So…”

“Nobody’s mad about it, Spike. Not even Xander. Giles was for a little while until Xander told him what was going on, but you don’t have to worry, nobody’s going to be coming after you to avenge Xander’s death or anything. It would be kind of pointless anyway since he’s not dead.”

“So everybody knows…”

“That I’m from the future. Yeah.”

Spike sighed, “Will you stop that?”

“Stop what?”

“Interruptin’ me and finishin’ my bloody sentences! Perfectly capable of speakin’ for myself, you know.”

Buffy smiled. “Sorry. I just got used to talking to you all the time when you were unconscious and I haven’t switched into ‘Spike can talk back’ mode yet.”

Spike smiled at her then looked down at his stomach, his smile melting into a frown. “How long was I out?”

“Almost two weeks. You had to re-grow some stuff, but you should be pretty well healed by now. You looked at least 95% better when we changed your bandages last night.”

Spike squeaked, “We?” and clutched the blanket, suddenly very conscious of the fact that underneath it, he was naked. “Who’s we?”

“Me and Mom.”

Now, as a rule, vampires aren’t even remotely modest, but William? A man raised in a time where a woman showing a bit of ankle was considered scandalous? Yeah… William was mortified. “So your Mum… I’m not wearin’ anythin’ and she…”

Buffy reached over and lightly squeezed Spike’s knee through the covers. “She hasn’t seen anything except where the bandages are. I’m the one who cleaned you up.”

“So you’ve…”

“Yeah, but it’s nothing I haven’t seen before, Spike. In the other timeline, you and I were… close.”

“Close enough for you to…”

Buffy nodded and smiled. “To… let’s see, how did you say it at that party? ‘Put my hands on your hot, tight little body?’ Yeah, we were that close.”

Spike closed his eyes and nodded, the full implication of what she’d said taking a bit to seep into his brain. When it did, his eyes opened slowly, stopping at half mast as the patented Spike leer came out to play. “Hmmm. Guess that explains some of the dreams I’ve been havin’ then. Or maybe I wasn’t dreamin’. You didn’t happen to… _make use_ of me while I was out, did you? ‘M sure the ‘important’ part stayed functional even if my brain and the rest of me were away on holiday.”

Buffy’s face screwed up in disgust and she all but shouted, “No! God! I wouldn’t do something like that!”

Spike jerked as if he’d been slapped and slumped further down the headboard. “No… no, ‘course you wouldn’t. I’m sorry, Slayer, don’t know what I was thinkin’… but the dreams… your hands on me. I could feel you touchin’ me, I swear I could.”

Buffy laid her hand on Spike’s leg just above his knee. “That’s because I **was** touching you, but it wasn’t like **that**. I was keeping you clean and exercising your muscles so they wouldn’t be all weak when you woke up. I was taking care of you, Spike, but I would never use you like that. Not again.”

Spike looked from her hand on his leg to her face then whispered, “Again?”

Buffy’s face flooded with shame and she lifted her hand off of Spike, laying it on the bed next to him. “That’s part of the stuff I didn’t tell you. I know you know my Spike loved me, but our relationship wasn’t rainbows and puppies… at all. We spent a lot of time hurting each other… and I used him to make me feel after Willow brought me back… but I’m not going to do that this time. I don’t want to hurt you anymore, and I didn’t know that I was… I just want you to heal.”

Spike sat up and, with the hand not holding the mug, reached for Buffy’s hand and gave it a light squeeze before letting go and focusing his gaze on his chipped polish. “Thank you, pet. I apologize for my crude assumptions, my brain must not be fully engaged just yet, but whatever you’ve been doin’ is workin’. I feel almost a hundred percent and it’s not even been two weeks, you say? Figured it’d take a lot longer considerin’ how badly damaged I was, missin’ parts and all.”

“Well, you’ve probably healed so fast because I’ve been mixing my blood with your Mug ‘O Happy Meal.”

His head snapped up hard enough to crack his neck. “You’ve what?”

She motioned to the mug. “My blood. In there.”

“What? Are you daft, woman? Do you have any idea what Slayer blood does to a vampire? No wonder I was havin’ those sorts of dreams.”

“Yeah, I know what it does. You told me about that little ‘side effect’ when you told me about killing your first slayer, but I also knew it would help heal you. And no, I’m not **daft** , but Giles thinks I am. He called me that just the other day… he hasn’t really boarded the Buffy loves Spike train yet.”

Spike’s mouth dropped open. “The Buffy loves… you still love me? Even after what I did? What I just accused you of?”

“Well… duh.”

“You shouldn’t do that. You shouldn’t just let me off the hook, Buffy. I **killed** your friend and I just insulted you in probably the very worst way I could. You should be disgusted with me, not takin’ care of me and givin’ me your blood. You were right to tell me to leave. I’m a monster.”

“Yes, you **have** a monster… that seems to be in control of your mouth sometimes, but that’s not **all** you are. Even Xander gets that you were only protecting me and it was his own dumb ass that got himself killed. And I’m not just _letting you off the hook,_ Spike. You weren’t on a hook in the first place and I only told you to leave to protect you.”

“Asking for it or not, I still killed a human, Buffy. I’m not safe… can’t be trusted. I don’t deserve your care and protection and I don’t understand why you can’t see that.”

“No, you’re not safe, and that’s a good thing for the Protecting Humanity club you joined, but you **can** be trusted. I trust you.”

“You shouldn’t. I don’t.”

“Well, I do. Deal, Bleach Boy. And I love you, so of course you deserve my care and protection. I was going to not bring up the whole love thing, give you time to figure yourself out and decide if you could love me back, but you know what I figured out while you were unconscious?”

“What?”

“That time has this annoying habit of slipping away from you and before you know it, you’re out of it, so I don’t want to waste any. I love you, Spike, and I always will. I didn’t tell you in the other timeline until it was too late and I regretted waiting to tell you every single hour of every single day until I finally killed myself. You told me you loved me tons of times, did everything you could think of to prove it to me, got your soul because you loved me, and I just let you die thinking you were unloved. Well, not this time, mister. When you die again, and hopefully that won’t happen for a very long time, you will die knowing that you are loved. That I love you. And I know you don’t love me right now… maybe you never will, but I’m okay with that. As long as you’re **here** , that’ll be enough.”


	11. Itching

Do-Over  
Chapter Eleven – Itching

“As long as you’re **here** , that’ll be enough.”

Before he could even formulate a response, she reached behind her and pulled a blood-smeared envelope out of her back pocket then dropped it onto the bed next to the tray. “That’s everything that happened in my future and how we handled it.”

Spike looked down at the envelope then back up at Buffy, trying to get his apparently still not fully engaged brain to switch to the new track the conversation had taken. “Whose blood is that?”

“Yours. I put the envelope in your coat – which is clean and hanging in the hall closet, by the way – right before the make Buffy dead Scooby meeting, so if you decided you didn’t want to stick around and help out, at least you’d know what was coming up so you could avoid it or survive it. And if you did decide to stick around, but you still didn’t believe that in my time you’d switched sides, you’d be able to read about all the good stuff you did and the lives you saved.”

“I believe you, Buffy, and thanks for cleanin’ my coat. I imagine it was a bit of a mess, yeah?”

Buffy smiled and reached out to squeeze his knee again. “Yeah, just a little bit, and you’re welcome. Also, since everybody knows I’m from the future now, I made copies for them so they’d all know what’s coming up. They’ve read them already so you’re behind on your homework, Mr. VanWinkle. Oh, and you can skip all the stuff about the Initiative if you want. Riley took care of the Adam thing and the Initiative has been shut down.” 

“Shut down… so there’s no chance of… the chip…”

“Is gone. I brought Angleman here and he removed it before he was shipped out with a beaten to a pulp – the bitch is lucky I didn’t kill her – Walsh and a few of the other scientists to some secret prison somewhere.” She held up her hand when he started to speak. “Mom’s the only one who knows because she was with us during the surgery.”

His hand settled on the top of his head, his fingers picking at the small bandage he found there. “Why?”

“Because the rest of the gang – actually, mostly just Giles – is just getting used to the idea of you **being** chipped and I don’t know how they’ll react when they find out you aren’t. I don’t think they’ll do anything, especially once you prove that you’re on our side, but I wanted to wait to tell them until after you’d healed so you can defend yourself if they try.”

“Uh… ok, and thanks, but that’s not what I meant. Why’d you have it removed in the first place?”

“Because it was wrong, Spike. Everything they did to you down in those labs was wrong.”

“Every… you know what they did? How?”

She waved at his torso. “The autopsy incision gave a big chunk of it away, but I found out the rest from your file. Mom made Angleman give it to me after we **persuaded** him to take out the chip.” She laughed quietly. “I think he was more scared of Mom than he was of me. You should have seen her, Spike. She had a crossbow on him the whole time he was working on you and she told him that if he screwed up your brain she’d hunt him to the ends of the earth and make him regret it.”

“Your Mum…”

“Told you she liked you, Spike.” He glared at her interruption and she smiled. “Sorry.”

“Did she read my file?”

“Yes.”

Spike grimaced in shame and closed his eyes. “So you both know how… how I begged… how weak I am…”

Buffy’s fingers brushing lightly across his cheek made him open his eyes, a gasp bursting through his lips at how close her face was to his. He hadn’t even heard her move, but she’d lifted herself up and was hovering mere inches away, wearing an angry expression. “You have nothing to be ashamed of, Spike. Those people… and calling them that insults the rest of us… they **tortured** you, **experimented** on you. **Anybody** , no matter how strong they are, would be begging for the pain to stop during the horrible things they were doing to you. But you survived it. And you escaped! You’re still here, mostly whole and completely undusty. So you’re not weak, okay? In fact, it’s because of you that the Initiative has been shut down.” She closed the distance and pecked him quickly on the lips then sat back.

Spike stared at her for a few seconds then shook himself. “Me? What’d I do?”

“Mom and I gave parts of your file to some General. He puked in his trash can after he read it.”

“You gave parts… what?”

“Wils went through and took out all the stuff that identified you as a vampire… body temp readings, lack of heartbeat, that kind of thing… and since you weren’t vamped in any of the pictures or video we gave him, it made it look like they’d been torturing and experimenting on humans. All we had to do was threaten to send our many copies to the media and… Poof. Initiative go bye-bye. The soldiers and lower level scientists and lab techs and stuff are all in the process of being reassigned and the labs are being dismantled. The harmless demons were let go and the not harmless ones… weren’t, but I made sure that they were killed quickly and humanely. They’d already been through enough pain.”

She glanced at the clock then suddenly stood up, sliding the tray full of mugs closer to Spike’s hand. “And speaking of not harmless demons, I’ve got to go smash the Gentlemen’s voice box and scream at them before they get the chance to kill anybody. Shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours. Mom will probably be home before I get back.” She leaned down and used her index finger under Spike’s chin to gently tilt his head back then she whispered, “Can I kiss you, Spike? A real kiss?”

He looked into her eyes then nodded slightly with a whisper of his own, “Please.”

She slid her fingers into his hair and tilted his head just right to capture his lips in a kiss that left him dazed and panting. She smiled at the look on his face as she straightened up. “Now that I’ve mind-bombed you again, I’ll give you some time to think it all over. I love you. See you later.”

Spike murmured, “See you,” then watched her walk out of the room. He sat staring at the closed door for a long time, licking his lips every few minutes as he tried to sort out everything Buffy had just told him. He was just getting to the chip removal part of the conversation when the door swung open, causing him to startle violently and voice a very unmanly yelp. 

Joyce’s eyes widened when they met his and she smiled. “Sorry. I thought you’d still be asleep. I just came to check on you.” She motioned toward his hand. “Aren’t you hungry?”

Spike looked down at the mug of blood still clutched in his hand. “Oh balls. I’ve let it go cold.” 

He shrugged and started to raise it to his lips, but Joyce reached out and stopped him. “I’ll warm it up.”

Spike let her take the mug from his hand even as he shook his head. “You don’t have to, Joyce. I can still drink it.”

Joyce smiled as she set the mug on the tray. “Physically, yes, you can, but my daughter would be upset with me if I let you. Hope you’re prepared to be the most spoiled vampire on the planet.”

She picked up the tray and moved toward the door, stopping when Spike spoke, “Joyce? Can I ask you something?”

She turned around and nodded. “Yes.”

He looked into her eyes then dropped his gaze to the blanket covering his legs. “Why’d you let me stay here after what I did?”

“What you… oh… Xander.”

“Yeah.”

Joyce stepped back toward the bed and sat down on the edge, balancing the tray on her knees. “What do you think I should have done?”

Spike shrugged. “Staked me, or at the very least, tossed me out. I killed one of Buffy’s mates, Mum. Didn’t figure you’d feel safe with me around after that. Knowin’ what I’m capable of even while chipped… and now that I’m not…”

“I already know what you’re capable of, Spike. I’ve known since you helped Buffy stop Angel. I think you’re the one who doesn’t know what you’re capable of… or at least you don’t believe it.”

“I believe it. I’m nothin’ but a monster…”

Joyce slapped her hand down on the mattress, surprising the vampire with the vehemence of her action. “No. You’re not. Not anymore, anyway. And if you say that in my presence again, you’ll find out what **I’m** capable of.”

Spike smiled slightly. “You sure you’re not a slayer, Joyce? ‘Cause you can be just as scary as Buffy sometimes. What with intimidating a bloke into re-fanging a vampire and all and then threatenin’ to hunt the poor sod down if he bungled the job.”

Joyce laughed. “Where do you think she gets it? That’s got nothing to do with being a Slayer, Spike, it’s a Summers women thing. When you meet my mother, you’ll understand.” Joyce smiled then stood up, leaning down to plant a kiss on Spike’s forehead. 

Spike looked up at her when she straightened up. “So you feel safe with an unleashed vampire in your house? You trust me that much?”

“I don’t just trust you, I **believe** in you. And Buffy believes in you. We spent a lot of time sitting on the end of your bed while you were unconscious and she told me everything you’d done in her original timeline. How you protected me and my two daughters as best you could. How you were there for both of them after I died, and for Dawn after Buffy did. How you helped Buffy when she came back. How you changed into a better man even before you got the soul, which you don’t need, by the way, so don’t get any ideas about going to Africa.”

Spike’s brow furrowed. “Africa?”

Joyce nodded. “That’s where you went to go through some trials or something, but you don’t need to. You changed without the benefit of a soul and it may have taken you longer to get there in the original timeline than it will in this one, but I don’t doubt for a minute that you **will** get there. Like Buffy has said – quite a few times, as a matter of fact, she should just get a button made up to pin to her shirt – you have it in you to be a good man.”

Spike didn’t trust himself to speak, afraid that the lump in his throat would break free and he’d start sobbing like a nancy, so he just nodded. Joyce nodded back and left the room, pulling the door softly shut behind her. Spike didn’t move until she’d returned, except to swallow down that lump and wrestle his emotions under control. She set the tray of re-warmed mugs on the bed without a word then smiled warmly at him before she left again. He drank the mugs down quickly; savoring the Slayer blood mixed in, then he slid down in the bed slightly and lifted the envelope off the mattress. 

It was time to do his homework and find out just what was coming up, because his two women – and he was not even a bit surprised that they’d managed to worm their way into his heart so quickly – believed in him… believed he could be better.

He was itching to prove them right.

XXXX  
XXXX  
And that’s where this story originally ended, but I was inspired to write a bit more, so there will be one more chapter after this one.


	12. Interesting

Do-Over  
Chapter Twelve – Interesting

“So how much money did he have to pay you?”

Spike smiled at the blonde as he set his glass of beer back on the table. “Enough to keep me and the Summers women quite comfortable for at least two human lifetimes, pet. Compound interest is a beautiful thing.”

She nodded enthusiastically. “It is, isn’t it? I could help you with investments, if you want. Do you have a financial advisor?”

Spike reached for her hand then raised it to his lips and placed a gentle kiss to the back. “No, but I’d be honored if you’d accept that position, Anyanka. My dosh would be in very capable hands.”

Anya beamed as Xander chuckled into his beer. “You should have seen the look on Dracula’s face when Spike told him how much it was.”

Spike chuckled. “Was quite funny, wasn’t it?”

Buffy stepped up behind Spike and wrapped her arms around his chest, resting her chin on his shoulder. “What’s funny?”

Spike turned his head and gave her a quick peck on the nose. “Ol’ Drac’s face when I told him how much he owed me for burnin’ that book back in 1898. Poncy bugger. You get everythin’ sorted?”

She nodded. “Yeah. You’d think the idiot fledges would’ve figured out by now not to hunt at the Bronze when we’re here.”

He chuckled, “Well, you nailed it, pet. They’re idiots. And since you got this batch, the next one’s mine, yeah?”

“Nope. I still have one more before we’re even since you wouldn’t let me help with Dracula.”

Spike growled. “Tosser’d already gotten his fangs into you in the original timeline and I’d be buggered if I was gonna let him anywhere near you in this one.”

“But you punched him a lot for me, right?”

Spike grinned. “Bloody right I did. Messed up his face right proper.” He brought a hand up to rest on her arms across his chest. “So how many were there?”

She huffed, “Only three. I barely even got warmed up before they were all dusty. We should go patrol.”

Xander snorted. “Patrol. Right.”

Spike quirked an eyebrow at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Xander smirked. “It means that ‘patrol’ is Buffy code for ‘getting groiny with Spike in a graveyard.’ Just like ‘training’ is Buffy code for ‘getting groiny with Spike in the training room.’”

Buffy laughed and squeezed Spike in a tight hug. “Darn it, Xan, you broke my super secret code! And here I thought I was being all sneaky and everything.”

Anya nodded. “They do give each other lots of orgasms, but that’s to be expected. Vampires have a very high sex drive and amazing stamina, not to mention a negligible refractory period. And if Spike is as large as the sizeable bulge in the front of his tight jeans says he is, then it’s only Buffy’s accelerated Slayer healing that allows her to walk normally.”

Spike and Buffy both burst out laughing and Xander choked on the beer he’d been trying to swallow. Anya pounded him on the back until his breathing returned to normal then he smiled at her. “Thanks for the vampy sex info, Ahn. Maybe warn me next time, though, so I’m not drinking, okay?”

Buffy started nibbling on Spike’s neck as he smirked over at Xander. “And if memory serves, we’re not the only ones doin’ a bit of ‘training.’ Who was it had their bird bent over the pommel horse last week? Maybe you should hang a towel on the doorknob next time. Rupes is gettin’ a bit long in the tooth for those kinds of shocks to his system. Thought the blighter was ‘bout to have a heart attack.”

Xander reached for Anya’s hand and twined their fingers together as he gave her a warm smile. “Well, she wanted lunch-break orgasms and I love her, so…” He leaned over and kissed her gently. “What my lady wants, my lady gets.” He straightened up and looked at the blonde pair on the other side of the table. “Speaking of ladies, when are the witchy ladies getting back from witchy camp?”

Buffy raised her head away from Spike’s well nibbled neck and smiled. “Giles and Mom left for LA this morning and they’ll pick them up at the airport tomorrow afternoon. Willow is so excited to show us all the things the Coven taught them. And she said that when she and Tara combine their magics, it’s… wow.”

Xander nodded. “Good. So we shouldn’t have to worry about Dark Willow then, right? No crazy geek skinning or world ending rampages?”

Buffy shook her head. “Nope. Tara said that Willow is the most powerful witch the Coven has ever seen, but she’s learned to control her magics and not let them control her.”

Xander pulled a folded sheaf of paper out of his back pocket and opened it on the table top. He flipped a few pages then uncapped a pen and scratched out several paragraphs. “One more thing off the list.” He flipped back a few pages and scratched something else out, “Dracula was handled and I didn’t even have to eat any bugs. Major bonus,” then he scanned a few more paragraphs. “The Dawnster should be showing up soon.” He groaned, “And then I’m supposed to be split in two. Great.”

Anya smiled widely. “Oooh, I’ve been waiting for this part! Two Xanders!” She looked over at Buffy. “You promised we didn’t have to put them back together right away. I believe we agreed on three days, right?”

Xander yelped, “Agreed? Who agreed? I didn’t agree!”

Buffy laughed. “How could I say no when she promised to take good care of both of you, Xan? Very good care. You might want to take some vacation time when Toth shows up. I don’t think either Xander will be able to even think about going to work.”

Spike leaned back against Buffy and smiled over at the sputtering brunette. “Remember what you said, mate. When you love your lady, you give her what she wants.”

Buffy squeezed him in a hug again. “And your lady wants to go patrolling, so move your butt, vampire.”

Spike rolled his eyes as he stood up from his stool, but his huge smile took the sting out of his words, “Bossy bint. Always tellin’ me what to do.”

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His lips traveled down over her collarbone, headed for the nipple hidden inside the sports bra she was wearing. He bit it lightly through the cloth and she arched toward him, tangling her fingers in his curls. “Oh God, Spike, we don’t have time for this. Mom and Giles will be home soon.”

He slipped his fingers underneath the fabric and pushed it up, his lips closing on her now bare nipple. “Always have time to make my woman scream. Turn around and let me in, luv. Please.” 

She nodded and turned, bracing her hands on the counter. Another pair of panties fell victim to Spike’s ardor as he ripped them from her body then tossed the scraps into a corner. She looked back over her shoulder with a glare. “Spike! Those were new!”

Spike chuckled as his fingers skated over her slick flesh, “And I keep tellin’ you, if you don’t want me tearin’ ‘em, then stop wearin’ ‘em. They just get in my way.” Any objections she was about to voice were lost when he slid two fingers deep into her as his other hand went to work on the buttons of his jeans. She pressed back against him as he replaced his fingers with something much larger and started thrusting, his hands grasping her hips hard enough to bruise as he pounded into her.

Buffy tensed first, screaming Spike’s name at her reflection in the mirror as her walls convulsed around him, pulling him over the edge right behind her. He howled at the ceiling then collapsed across her back, panting harshly as he settled his hands next to hers on the edge of the counter, taking some of his weight.

Suddenly they both stiffened and their eyelids fluttered as new memories were downloaded into their brains. They fell to the floor in a tangled heap of arms and legs as someone started pounding on the door and shouted. “God! Is that all you guys ever do? I could hear you all the way downstairs! You need to get your clothes on. Mom just got home and Spike needs to listen to her head. She says she’s had a headache since they left LA.”

Buffy and Spike scrambled to their feet and Spike righted his clothing as Buffy snatched the robe off the back of the bathroom door and slipped into it. She was shakily reaching for the knob when Spike’s hand wrapping around hers stilled her movements. Buffy looked up at him with fear in her eyes and he smiled reassuringly. “It’ll be all right, pet. She was tip top when she left, so if this is the start then we’ve caught it in time. I’ll have a listen and if I hear anythin’ even remotely off, we’ll cart her right to the doc. We’ll save her, Buffy, I promise.”

Buffy wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. “I’m so scared, Spike. What if we can’t? I can't lose her again."

He wrapped his arms around her and murmured into her hair, “Whistler told you her death was preventable and I’ve been keepin’ close tabs on her for months now. She’ll be fine, luv. You won't lose her.”

She squeezed him tighter and whispered, “I love you, Spike.”

He lowered his head and nuzzled against her neck. “Know that, pet, and I love you, too. Now let’s go sort your Mum so I can meet your new little sis. Think things are ‘bout to get quite interestin’ ‘round here.”

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And that’s it! I know this chapter jumped quite a bit ahead, but since the rest of Season Four dealt mostly with Adam and the Initiative, and that's been taken care of, nothing really jumped out at me as inspiration for the next bit. I know there are more than a few loose ends, like what happened to Riley and how Willow managed to meet Tara if Buffy took care of the Gentlemen before they could steal everyone's voices, so I’m going to leave this story marked as incomplete because I think I’ll probably be revisiting this Verse to possibly tie some of those ends up.


End file.
